


Eat You Alive

by patootie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Angst and Humor, Banshee Lydia Martin, Best Friends, Chaptered, Developing Relationship, Drunk Stiles, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Making Out, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romantic Comedy, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Spin the Bottle, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Weird Biology, Werewolf Jackson Whittemore, Werewolf Scott, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:09:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patootie/pseuds/patootie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> This beast that you're after will eat you alive and spit out your bones. </i> Stiles and Jackson did something and that's the only way either of them want to describe it. Lydia knows exactly what she wants, she's just biding her time. Allison wants to spend all of her time with Lydia. Isaac is running. Scott is waiting. Danny is... <i>something</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He said to me

It felt like somebody had ransacked the room.

Stiles sat up in bed, distracted for a moment by the glow of his alarm clock, then looked at the empty space next to him. Jackson was sharp and scratched at his skin even as he slept, and every time they fell against the pillows next to each other, Stiles always knew that he’d wake up to that steady pulse of glowing numbers and nothing else. The scratching sensation would fade gradually through the night, and as soon as he felt his eyelids succumb to the darkness, Jackson would know that it was time to leave. To pull his shirt back over his head to hide the marks that Stiles made against his skin as they fought for hard kisses.

*

“How did it go last night?” Scott grinned, tugging playfully at Stiles’ backpack. It was stupid, really. He was his best friend and he didn’t even know what was happening to him. Any of it at all. “Did you see how Erica Reyes was looking at you last night? I think she likes you, man.” The corridor seemed longer today, and Stiles didn’t want to talk. The cheap fluorescent bulbs reminded him of his own alarm clock at home, and that didn’t help at all. “I- what? No way. Erica. No way,” he stumbled, trying to stop his thoughts from venturing into the world of what actually happened. How Jackson had looked across at him once or twice, how his eyes were heavy and his bored frown lifted to a curious grin.

 _“I heard that you got Captain. Nice one, buddy,” Stiles went to pat him on the shoulder, hesitated midway, then let his arm drop._

_“You’re on the team, jerk.”_

_“Oh. Oh, yeah. Well, y’know… Lydia. She seems cool, right?” He could feel the sweat on his brow, now._

 _“You’ve been in love with her since kindergarten or something, that’s you, right?”_

_“Um, yeah. I suppose so, yeah. Sorry.” Jackson simply responded with a smile. He pulled his plastic cup to his lips, still looking at Stiles, and downed the rest of the drink. Wiping his lips with his spare hand, he muttered “Well, looks like you’ll be getting a chance sooner than you think.”_

_“What? You can’t be serious – why would you leave someone like –“_

 _“New horizons.” His smirk reached right up to his eyes, something Stiles hadn’t seen before. The kind of smirk that doesn’t need to explain a thing. The kind of smirk that sends a rush down your spine like nothing else. The kind of smirk that felt like the whisper of a touch._

“She totally likes you, Stiles. You should give it a go, y’know, new horizons and all that…” Scott beamed, readjusting his shoulder straps.

“What did you say?” Stiles turned to face him, and he could feel his face going a deep shade of red. “Scott!”

“Hey, Hey! Calm down! I just think that you should maybe take a break from fantasising about you know who. Maybe?” Scott’s voice was calm, but Stiles knew that there was a slight air of frustration to it. They were best friends and he had to hear about how perfect Lydia was all the time; every single day. Scott barely spoke about Isaac, but perhaps that was because of how it all ended. Stiles just remembered when it rained for the whole weekend after he left, and all Scott could do was sit on his bedroom floor, waiting for him to come back through the window. He didn’t. _“If you’re someone’s anchor, you’re not supposed to leave. So, I’m going to wait right here. He’s just afraid, and so am I, but he’ll figure it out. He’ll come back and I won’t have to call out for him anymore.”_ He didn’t sleep for two days after that.

“I don’t fantasise about her, I am not a pervert!”

“Right… You’re acting weird today. Usually you’d shrug that one off…” Scott forced a frown, trying not to laugh. It was strange how he was still able to smile just like that.

“I barely got any sleep and I’m just completely wiped out right now, buddy,” he felt his voice shake slightly. Scott looked up, concerned, and patted his shoulder heavily.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”


	2. Child, I'm afraid for your soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson hates how he can't stop looking at the back of Stiles' stupid head in class. He hates how Lydia looks at him differently, now. He hates how her lips feel cold against his. He hates how Isaac left, telling him everything and begging him to keep it from Scott. He hates wanting Stiles even when he pulls all of those moronic faces... But most of all, he hates how easy it is to hate something.

Jackson watched the way his head bobbed up and down as he talked. Like a pathetic parrot, or something. It had got to the point where his voice became a low buzz in the back of his head, and he'd have to really concentrate to remove the traces of his plaid shirts from his eyeballs. It was screwed up, really, the way that he despised how he laughed with Scott. They never really laughed together. Bickered, yes. Whispered, yes. Moaned, yes. When the plaid and the voice and the distorted faces became too much, he could always lean back in his chair and remember that. The way his body leant towards his whenever they were in the same room. The way they didn't need to say anything to each other to _know_. It was so much easier that way. The night they fucked was the loneliest he'd ever felt, and that scared him. He didn't want Stiles - of all people - to be his only reminder.

"Jackson, you're doing that thing again," Lydia sighed. Her worksheet was full, she stared straight ahead, seemingly uninterested in eye contact.

"What thing?"

"Oh, you know, leaning back and shifting around in your seat like you're about to have a freak out or something." Her voice was empty and distracted; irritated. Jackson had stopped concerning himself with that a while ago. There was a time when they would joke around with each other and actually want to kiss properly. Couple stuff. She used to love sneaking into the locker room with him after practice. He used to love the way she would look up at him after a big game, treating him with a kiss for each successful tackle and goal. They kissed a lot. Now, it was all just silence in shopping malls and feigned interest. Ever since Allison moved to the school, Lydia had changed. She finally had a girl that was her friend and didn’t secretly hate her. Jackson thought it would be good for her and good for them to get some space. Maybe he’d fall back in love with her, then. The thing is, the more time they spent apart, the more he realised that he wanted something else.

_“That’s such a non-answer,” Stiles huffed._

_“What, new horizons? I don’t think so.”_

_“Yes. Exactly. You guys have been together forever. What’s changed?” Jackson shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He could feel Stiles’ eyes looking at him – really fucking looking – and he didn’t like it. His stupid shirts and his stupid haircut. The stupid way his mouth hangs open all the goddamn time. “Uh, I have. I’m different. I-I’ve changed… And I need to quit it before I do something stupid. Doing her a favour, really.”_

_“What’s happened to you? Are you a mythical sea beast now, or something? Wouldn’t surprise me…”_

_“Shut up, Stiles. You wouldn’t want to know.”_

_“Try me.”_

_“No.”_

_“Hey! I can’t catch a break here, you’re the one wanting to break up with the most beautiful girl in school.” Stiles watched Jackson’s hand ball into a fist for a short moment, and then relax. Sometimes he’d wondered why he still liked Lydia. It was definitely something to do with the way she smelt and the way that she talked quickly when she didn’t care much for the conversation. And her pretty hair. Really pretty hair. He always saw the way she looked at Jackson with such interest, such love, and how easy it looked to do it. Y’know, love someone. Just like that. Maybe it was easy to love him, just like that. “You’re really annoying, did you know that, Stiles?”_

_“Yep. Deal with it.” It was strange, the way his stance had changed slightly. He leant towards him as if he was about to ask for something in private. “I have this ridiculous thing for someone else. I just need some space, okay?” Jackson’s breath was warm and surprisingly distracting as it sent shivers rolling across his body. “Who?” he gasped, his heartbeat racing. For some reason he really, really, really wanted it to be him. Just in that moment. He wanted Jackson Whittemore to be struggling over him and wanting something that was impossible because he was in love with Lydia Martin and that’s how it’s always been. Lydia likes Jackson. Jackson likes Lydia. Everyone else is cancelled out from the start._

_That’s when being upstairs with him changed a lot of things. He didn’t know why he was doing it at first. He felt like he was betraying Lydia in some way, with all the years that she had ignored him. All of those looks of disgust. All of the times where she didn’t even acknowledge his existence. What was all of it for? When Jackson looked at him, it didn’t feel so pointless. It didn’t feel that way, because after everything, maybe this exact moment was the entire point of it. “You’ve been distracting me all night,” Jackson urged, tugging at Stiles’ already loose belt buckle. His urgency felt good against his hip bones, and as each scattered kiss went lower towards his boxer shorts, Stiles forgot about the girl. Jackson’s touch was rough with the addition of soft, desperate lips, and it didn’t take long before Stiles was hard with wandering hands. “You’re distracting me right now,” he groaned, struggling to hide his own enjoyment. It didn’t feel like he’d expected. He had expected to stand there awkwardly, almost as an audience member to his own sex life, watching as two people pressed up against each other’s skin and waited for that selfish moment of intensity. Watching Jackson and feeling him already felt selfish, and hell, it was definitely intense. When they fell onto the bed, they both hid a smile, not daring to look away from each other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Jackson pushed inside of him that Stiles risked a glance at his lips, to which he replied with an arrogant snort. “Don’t just look. Do something, Stiles.”_

_“But-“ he gasped, digging his fingers into Jackson’s curved back as he went deeper, “This feels different. You, you feel-“_

_“Shut UP, Stiles, and just let me fuck you,” he growled._

“Stiles is just screwing up my concentration with that drone of his,” Jackson sneered, ducking his head down towards his notes.

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I like Allison and I think that our relationship has reached its zenith.” The entire class had gone quiet for a moment, and then the usual chatter returned. “E-excuse me? Allison? What?!” Danny turned to face him, patting his shoulder lightly with a slight grin. “I think she’s breaking up with you, dude. Now, you can insult her or you can finally talk to me about that mystery person you’re always on about.”

“Excuse me? Excuse you!” Lydia squeaked in an attempt at anger, but the relief that washed over her face caused her to glow a little brighter than normal. It was good to see her look like that again. It was good that Allison could make her look like that again. Did Allison even know? “You know I’m not going to talk about that _here_ , man,” he hissed, forcing his eyes shut in frustration. Lydia inhaled loudly whilst folding her arms. “What are you scared of?” she asked nonchalantly.

“I’m not scared of anything,” Jackson muttered. Stiles was sat straight in his seat, and he hadn’t talked for at least five minutes. “Nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of sleepy, so apologies in advance for my lack of beta-ing. Hope you guys enjoyed it. Always love.


	3. These things that you're after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Allison are both hopeless romantics, but who knows, it might just work out for them. Stiles likes hosting parties at Scott's house. Especially ones involving spin the bottle. Jackson's pretty much fed up... And what's going on with Danny?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can, please listen to Dreaming by Smallpools before reading beyond the second asterisk :-) Comments are always welcome and I hope you guys enjoy it. Always love.

_“Do you remember when we met him after he’d changed?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Even then he was that sullen-looking kid that didn’t pay you any attention. Too busy with his own misery to even look at you.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“C’mon, Scott, he was always a loner. Being part wolf didn’t change that, he just mixed in to make it easier. So you guys didn’t fight over him eating members of the public.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Dude, I know it sucks, but you can’t stay here. It’s been two days. I’m sure he’d have some way of letting you know if he was coming back any time soon. Like, a howl or something? I don’t know what you guys get up to when I’m not here and I’m not sure that I want to know.” Stiles held his hands up in mock defence, searching Scott’s face for the hint of a smile. Nothing. For all he knew, Scott and Isaac were just friends. Scott was devastated, but that didn’t prove anything. They’d lived under the same roof for a few months, now, and apart from the odd blush he had noticed on their cheeks when he clambered through Scott’s bedroom window; nothing. It was like he was always interrupting something. They could be sat on opposite sides of the room. They could be in completely different rooms, one of the two would walk into the other for something, and start mumbling incoherently or running their hands through their hair. Even when Isaac’s name was called on the register, Scott noticeably sank a little into his seat, and when Scott answered to his there would always be that familiar sound of someone shuffling around in their chair. No doubt it would be Isaac fumbling around with his books to distract from whatever it all was. Whatever this all was. Stiles didn’t know what they were like together, he only knew what he saw between them when they were in his presence. Glancing nervously at each other and the uncomfortable smiles and he was pretty sure that they shared the word of the day thing, now._

“Capricious. Huh. Would you look at that,” Scott laughed to himself. “’Characterised by or subject to whim; impulsive and unpredictable.’ Sounds about right, I guess.” He was being pranked. It had to be that, or some sick and twisted intervention that he wouldn’t wish on anyone. “You’d like that one, Is. Guess you’re probably familiar with it already,” he smiled, turning back to the rest of his room, knowing that there wasn’t anyone else there. “Good job mom’s out, huh? Really good job. I think I’ve got enough on my plate without adding a psych evaluation to the mix.” His smile was wide, now, and it worried him. That he could stand there and talk to the idea of a person, a false presence, and feel more comfortable than when he would hang out with Stiles and Allison. His two closest friends. Weird.

*

“No, he didn’t say anything to anyone, Scott,” Allison swallowed down the last of her sandwich, trying to keep a light hearted tone to the conversation. Scott had been watching her as she ate the entire thing, like it was just something else to concentrate on, which was pretty distracting. “So,” she said, wiping crumbs from her hands, “Can I talk to you about something for a second? I know, I know, you’re pretty out of it because of other stuff, but I kinda need your help with something…” Allison could feel herself going red as she spoke. “What is it?” Scott’s response started off weak, so he shrugged his shoulders and with the slightest of smiles was back in the room. “It’s Lydia.”

“Still? Have you not spoken to her yet? Jeez, Al… After everything yesterday, too,” he sighed.

“What happened yesterday?”

“Did you not – in class – y’know?”

“What about class? What happened? You’re creeping me out now…” Allison’s voice was unsteady, a little excitement pushing through. “Did she have a fight with Jackson or something?”

“Something like that, I guess. Well, Al, they broke up.”

“What? Are you kidding me?”

“Now you can finally make a move on Jackson, just like you’ve always wanted,” Scott teased, leaning across the dining hall table with a wink. Allison didn’t know how to respond. It had been _so_ long. She remembered the first day of her new start at school and the way that Lydia walked through the halls like she owned the place. She felt giddy with the distant click of her heels, and it wasn’t until she fell back against her locker that she had a chance to even consider what was happening. _I’ve only just met her. Don’t do this to yourself. Long-term, handsome boyfriend. Sports type. Living the dream. Don’t even go there._ It had been over a year and a lot had happened. They had shared clothes, make out partners and beds. Just not in _that_ way. The one thing they didn’t really share was secrets. They didn’t talk about who they _liked_. Just the people that liked _them._ That was how it worked and they liked it just like that. Allison had a very good reason to like it just like that.

_“_ So, she’s single, now. What are you going to do about it?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do about it? They broke up _yesterday_. I’m pretty sure that she’s not going to be jumping into anything in the next couple of days... It’s nothing, anyway, Scott.”

“Sure. Like the time you called me up crying that night because you had a dream that you told her everything and she ended up hating you. Three hours. We were on the phone for three hours, Al.”

“Right. Shut up. That was _one_ time,” she groaned, dropping her head to rest on the table. The other times when she had a dream about Lydia weren’t exactly conversations to have with a friend. Even one as close as Scott. Allison kept them in her head for the times when she had to watch Lydia make out with Jackson at a party, or even when she couldn’t sleep properly because she was thinking about her anyway. A distraction from a distraction. “You should come over to mine tonight. Stiles has decided to hold a get together in my room because his dad’s still freaking out about the time when he came in to find a random naked guy in the shower of the downstairs bathroom after work last month. Apparently, that stuff’s for the upstairs one…” Scott shrugged.

“I’ll remember that for next time I decide to take a shower in Stiles’ house. Bathroom protocol; check. Who’s going?”

“Oh, y’know. Only a small group of you, me, Danny, Jackson and Lydia… And Stiles, of course. Like he’d miss that.”

“Jackson? What? Lydia???”

“Well, Stiles said that because you guys were friends, maybe we should all be friends…”

“Right. This sounds like it’s going to be super entertaining, a recent break up and a bunch of smitten single kids. That’s just like Stiles, huh.”

“Well, Danny’s not smitten with anyone,” Scott’s reply sounded almost like a question.

“Not yet, anyway.”

*

“If I knew that wine coolers were the only thing on the menu tonight, Stiles, I would’ve totally bailed,” Jackson scoffed, downing the drink anyway. Scott’s room felt small with everyone in it, especially as they slumped down to the floor and formed a rough circle in front of his bed. “Oh, y’know, I thought they were your favourite, man. You’re getting through ‘em like they are, anyway,” Stiles spat back, rolling his eyes.

“So… I brought vodka?” Danny chirped in an attempt to tackle the tension in the room. “It’s pretty disgusting but I thought that if we all drink enough then we won’t fight about something stupid like a rather tasty drink with a low alcohol content.” He pulled a large clear bottle from his backpack, unscrewed the lid, took a large sip and then winced. “Mmm. That’s the good stuff right there. Jackson, here. Drink some, you might be less of an ass.” It seemed like Danny could say anything to Jackson, just as long as he patted him on the shoulder afterwards. That little bit of contact seemed to affirm their friendship regardless of any statement, and there had been a lot of statements made in their time.

“Hand that over, I’d like to drink my way out of this nightmare situation,” Lydia snatched the bottle from Danny’s hand, “And to think, the werewolves aren’t the scary part,” she muttered to herself. As she took a few delicate sips, Allison pulled out a flask from her jacket pocket and took a deep gulp. “Woah, Argent, what’ve you got there?” Stiles asked, surprised.

“Well, it looks to me like some sort of flask. Possibly full of alcohol,” she grinned, taking another swig. From her reaction, it definitely wasn’t water. Lydia had finished with the vodka and passed it to Scott by leaning across Allison’s lap, lingering slightly on her way back to her original position. Allison forgot about wanting to irritate Stiles. “It-it’s whiskey. My dad’s stuff. I don’t know what brand, so don’t ask,” she mumbled, watching Lydia intently. Lydia was looking right back. Stiles looked across to Jackson, confused, but he wasn’t interested. The wine coolers were almost gone. “Well, this is _fun_ ,” Stiles yawned, “Danny, got any more ridiculously sized bottles of liquid with a high alcohol content?”

“Yeah, this,” Danny chuckled, reaching back into his bag. Scott followed his hands as they pulled out another large bottle. This time, the bottle wasn’t clear. It was green. “Is that – is that what I think it is?” Stiles bubbled excitedly.

“Well, if you think it’s Absinthe, then sure,” Danny winked, handing over the bottle.

“Be careful, Stiles,” Scott warned, “Just ‘cause my mom’s working late tonight doesn’t mean that she can pump your stomach without your dad finding out later.”

“Okay, okay. Just a sip. Cheers, everyone, especially Danny. The dark horse of the group,” Stiles replied, holding the bottle towards the middle of the circle. Allison joined with her flask, Scott with the vodka and Jackson with his wine cooler. “This is _so_ lame,” he moaned. Lydia scowled back at him, reaching to the flask and clasping her hand around Allison’s. It was cold. Danny looked around sheepishly for a moment and then at Scott. “Do you mind?” he nodded towards the vodka bottle.

“No. Go for it,” Scott beamed as he felt Danny’s warm hand against his.

“To the dark horse of the group,” Stiles exclaimed.

“THE DARK HORSE!”

The satisfying clinking sound was muted slightly by the metal flask, and with it they became more comfortable. Lowered expectations. “Well, that was anticlimactic,” Lydia smiled, “Scott, do you mind if I swap places with you? I’d like to try out that whiskey my dearest Allie’s got there, if you don’t mind.” Allison froze for a moment. _She’s still your best friend. Remember that. Stop thinking about how different it would be if you watched The Notebook together again._ “Sure,” Scott replied, shuffling next to Stiles instead. Danny perked up with a full smile for Scott as Stiles became the only space between them. “We should do something,” Jackson had finished the cooler, “Like, spin the bottle. Or something. Otherwise I’m going to end up being that guy that got drunk on wine coolers. Screw the name. Still. Not. Cool.” He placed the empty bottle in the middle of the circle as everyone looked around at each other nervously. “Chill out, guys. It’s just a game. The rules are that I don’t have to make out with Lydia and that there are no rules. So, let’s do this!” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, risking a glance at Stiles. Stiles was already looking his way. “Loser,” Jackson whispered with a smirk, “Danny, you go first.”

“Oh, okay,” Danny replied, spinning the bottle, “Stiles. Hi.” Stiles glared at Jackson, whose response was that of a shrug. “Fine. Hi, Danny, so I guess we’ll be kissing right now, then.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s what spin the bottle is, Stiles.” Danny turned his neck slightly to kiss him, placing his hands firmly on the carpet. They leant towards each other without hesitation and paused slightly just before they touched. Their lips pushed lightly against each other, not intent on making a mark, but Stiles’ tongue stroking playfully against Danny’s suggested that they were enjoying it nonetheless. Scott watched, bemused. He couldn’t stop watching the way Danny’s lips moved quickly, with little bursts of kisses littered across Stiles’ open mouth. His hands were still planted on the floor, and he noticed how he was keeping them away from Stiles’ body. It made him think of what it would be like if he were to kiss him, to pull his hands from the carpet and up to his face. To have his hands run through his hair and pull him forward with a hand around his neck. To kiss deeper than _that._

“How was that?” Danny exhaled, looking around the circle expectantly. Allison and Lydia nodded in unison, still looking at each other. “Why don’t one of you ladies have a go?” he purred, pushing the bottle towards them. Lydia turned away from Allison with a frown on her face, took hold of the bottle, and let it spin. “Allison,” Danny grinned, “Huh.” A deep red spread across Allison’s cheeks; her eyebrows high and anxious. “Lyd, we don’t have to d- “ she started, not before Lydia was holding onto both of her hands in the space between them. She tilted her head to the right and smiled sweetly back at Allison with misty eyes. Allison’s lips were soft on their own without Lydia’s added lip gloss, and it was then that she realised how easy it was to forget about everybody else in the room. Lydia bit down a little on Allison’s lower lip and pulled back until she squeezed her hands tight and moaned ever so slightly. In response, Allison let go of her left hand and instead traced her fingers across her collarbone, pushing away loose strands of hair, and tightened her grip to massage her shoulder blade as she kissed from her cheek down to her neck. Each kiss felt different, like she was writing the first draft of a poem. Each line was written down loosely at first, raw energy, and then it was re-drafted with sincerity. Lydia gasped, holding Allison’s right hand tight against her thigh. “We –uh- we should _stop_ ,” she whispered, just as she felt the slight pressure of a bite against the crook of her neck. Allison pulled back, looking up at Lydia, then the rest of the room. Danny had taken the bottle of vodka from Scott and was sipping contently. Stiles had the Absinthe at his lips, watching them, blinking slowly. Scott tried to hide his laughter by reaching for a wine cooler. Jackson looked on, eyebrows raised, then turned to look at Stiles.

“Well, that was interesting,” Scott nodded towards the two of them, “I guess it’s my turn now, then.” Danny screwed the lid back onto the vodka and placed it down beside him. Jackson picked it up and took a swig. “Ha! Scott and Danny!” he shouted, immediately covering his mouth afterwards.

“Looks like I’m doing the rounds tonight. Excuse me, Stiles,” Danny shrugged, kneeling up to move past him and sit next to Scott. Once he was comfortable, he looked at Scott with wide eyes and patted him on the shoulder. “This should be interesting,” he chuckled.

“Sorry if I taste funny,” Scott replied nervously, “Coolers and vodka and yeah.” Danny shook his head and reached forward, putting his hand at the small of his back. “Come here,” he urged.

“Okay,” Scott whispered, grabbing Danny’s shoulder as he pulled him in. They were both tense for the moment before their lips met, clashing hard against each other. It all felt so urgent, so necessary, and Scott could feel his hand tighten on Danny’s shoulder as his hand ran up his back and to the base of his neck. He was _so_ warm. “Fuck,” Scott uttered as he leant further into his kisses. Danny’s warmth swam down his spine and he could feel it tighten in his stomach, like it fed on his kiss, or something. No. It wasn’t his kiss, it was how he _felt_ each time they touched. Like he was more aware of how everyone in the room was feeling and it was an incredibly addictive sensation. Every single feeling of desire in the room met with their touch, and he felt Danny’s smile grow beneath his lips because he knew what was happening, too.

“C’mon guys,” Jackson called, applauding their efforts with a slow clap. He was definitely drunk, now, because he was openly staring at Stiles. “What _was_ that?” Scott whispered as he pulled away from Danny. “It’s- I can-“

“Turn people on easily? Lucky for some, Danny boy,” Stiles interrupted, still taking gulps from the bottle of Absinthe. “You’re a jerk, sometimes,” Danny replied, taking a half empty cooler from Jackson and finishing it. “I haven’t made out with anyone yet,” Jackson huffed, attempting to take a sip from the empty bottle, “And I’m the one that’s been doing you all a favour by drinking these damn coolers so you don’t have to.”

“We could always play with two,” Stiles piped up, “Y’know, two bottles so people don’t get bored…”

“Oh, right, right. Then there’s still going to be two people sat here like idiots,” Scott retorted, wondering where the bottle of vodka had got to. “What if we use three?” Danny countered, trying to hide his grin as he reached behind Jackson to grab another empty bottle.

“Well, I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t want to make out with any of you guys,” Lydia shook her head. Allison bowed her head slightly, smiling. “Neither do I,” she added. Lydia looked down at her, using her hand to tilt her head back up towards her for a kiss. Scott couldn’t help but grin for Allison. _Finally._ “Fine then, looks like it’s just us four,” Stiles cheered. His breath smelt like liquorice.

“You and Jackson are the only two that haven’t made out, actually,” Scott replied, punching Stiles’ shoulder playfully. Danny laughed in response, nudging Scott’s shoulder with his own. “Yeah, that’s right, actually!”

“Is it? Really?” Stiles flung his arms up in the air in surprise. _Definitely_ drunk if he fell for that. Jackson was lying on the floor, gently rolling one of the empty bottles across the carpet with his fingers. Definitely, _definitely_ drunk. “C’mon then, loser,” his voice sounded much lower against the carpet, “Let’s get this over with, already.” With that, Stiles pounced onto the floor next to Jackson, pushing the bottle out of their way. “You should roll over so I can get on top of you,” Stiles nodded excitedly.

“What?” Jackson lifted his head slightly.

“You heard me.”

“On t- “

“Yeah.”

As soon as Jackson was on his back, Stiles was there, pushing him down and kissing him hard. Almost like they had done it before, or _something_. Never like this, though. Never in front of anyone. Never with Stiles on top. It must have been the Absinthe. And the wine coolers. Jackson actually liked how it felt to have Stiles right there on top of him. It was different, and he could feel himself getting hard almost immediately. How Stiles felt against him, rather than how he felt against Stiles, was different. The feeling was suffocating, almost. He knew that if he opened his eyes, they would be an intense electric blue, and he could feel the increasing tension around his nail beds that usually came before the change. It wasn’t even near the full moon. “Stiles, fuck, I feel- “ Stiles pulled back to look him in the eye. “What’s wrong?”

“My eyes – th- they’re-“

“All the better to see me with? It’s okay, Jackson. It’s just me. You’re okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise.”

“But it feels… Different this time.”

“Do you remember when I said that, huh? ‘Just let me fuck you’comes to mind.”

“Oh.”

“Honestly,” Stiles shook his head and moved to lie next to him, “Maybe you actually _like_ me. _Shocker_.” Before Jackson could reply, Allison and Lydia were uncrossing their legs and grabbing their bags. “We’re – uh – heading off,” said Allison.

“Yes, uh, heading off,” Lydia agreed.

“Heading off, eh? Is that what you kids call it these days?” Danny winked.

“I guess it _kinda_ makes sense, actually,” Stiles added. Scott smacked his forehead. Jackson groaned and rolled back to face the carpet. “Wow, Stiles. Really?” Allison rolled her eyes, taking Lydia by the hand and heading out of the door. “Have fun, and can one of you stop _him_ from drinking more of that green stuff? That would be great, thanks,” Lydia chimed in, flicking her hair over her shoulder as they turned away and left. Danny looked back at Scott, leaning even further towards him than before. “I think we should make out again. At some point. Whenever you’re ready, of course,” he uttered timidly.

“If you tell me what happened when we _did_ , Danny,” Scott replied. He could still feel an inkling of the sensation, but it was no longer as draining as before. “Now Allison and Lydia have left it feels less –“

“Heavy?”

“Yeah! What _is_ that?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jackson’s voice was muffled against the carpet. He had calmed down and could feel Stiles looking at him expectantly. “Yeah, what _are_ you talking about?” Stiles added, pulling at Jackson’s arm to get him to sit up. Surprisingly, he did just that. Stiles tried to hide his shock. “I’m not _that_ drunk, idiot. Just bored, now,” he grumbled. Danny shook his head slowly at Scott with furrowed eyebrows. _Please, don’t._ “Oh, nothing. Y-you guys should go. My mom’s going to be home soon. Yeah, she’ll be home,” Scott replied, tripping over his words. He noticed Danny’s shoulders relax and watched as Jackson pushed himself up on his feet, then grabbed playfully at the collar of Stiles’ shirt. “Let’s go, loser. _Don’t_ bring the Absinthe.”

“Okay,” Stiles smiled back submissively. No arguments. No fighting. They didn’t have to tonight because they were going home together. Danny stood up and began to walk out, too. “What – Where are you going?” Scott called, nonplussed.

“Your mom’s going to be home soon,” Danny stared right back at Scott, “And you could really do with some rest.” He watched as Jackson and Stiles stumbled out of the window and smiled to himself with the crashing sounds and apparent destruction of foliage that followed. “I didn’t mean _you,_ Danny. I want you to talk to me about what happened earlier. That isn’t something that usually happens when you kiss someone in a game of spin the bottle. You were _so_ warm, and it was like I could feel you going through me, like you were in my veins. I can still feel it now, look!” He urged, rolling up his sleeve. “Feel this, Danny. What the hell _is_ that?” Danny took hold of his arm; heat radiating from it. Suddenly, Scott pulled his arm back to his chest. “You’re cold. Why are you _cold_?”

“The window’s open, there’s a chill,” he muttered.

“What have you done, Danny?”

“I have to go – your mom’s going to be back soon,” he pleaded, almost, breaking eye contact and pulling his jacket over his shoulders.

“You can’t just ignore me!”

“I’m not, Scott, I just can’t do this right now. I have to go.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the bedroom door. For some reason, Scott decided not to pursue him, but to walk over to the window and close it.

*

“STILES!”

“W-what?” Stiles rolled over, out of his bed and onto the floor. “WHERE’S THE FIRE? IT’S SIX IN THE MORNING!” he yelled as he pulled his boxer shorts back on and ran into the hallway. “DAD? WHAT’S HAPPENING?”

“GET DOWN HERE. RIGHT NOW.” Stiles crept hesitantly down the stairs to find his father stood at the bottom. “What the _hell_ did I say about the downstairs bathroom?”


	4. They can't be controlled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's got something. Stiles is pretty unhelpful. Allison wants Lydia to show everyone who she really is. Jackson is being consumed by what he _was_. Everyone's still thinking about their drink-fueled escapades in one way or another. Oh, and Isaac's back.

It was strange for a few days after that. Scott could walk into a room and usually he’d have to focus to be able to hear whispered conversations. This wasn’t like that. He felt the hair prick on the back of his neck as the warmth swept through him, knocking him back a little. Everyone was talking to him at once, or so it seemed, and he struggled to concentrate.  It was at its worst in class, where it was a constant buzz that vibrated through him. Danny would often look up at him, sympathetic, but whenever he tried to speak to him, would turn away in his seat. They hadn’t spoken properly since that night.

“Stiles, something’s going on,” Scott rushed, tugging at his arm. Stiles was distracted, balancing a pencil on his top lip and pouting so it touched the bottom of nose. “Stiles!” he hissed, snatching the pencil and slamming it down on the desk. “What is _up_ with you today?” Stiles replied, startled.

“I think Danny’s _given_ me something…”

“What? You guys had _sex_?”

“No! No, we didn’t.”

“Well, I heard that you can get some really freaky stuff from oral, man,” Stiles cringed, picked the pencil back up and put it in his mouth. Scott watched in amusement.

“Nothing like that!” he insisted, “It’s just, when he touched me… I feel different. I can feel a lot more…”

“Hey! That’s great, buddy! Maybe you’re finally over Is-“ he paused, turning to face Scott with a grimace. _Shouldn’t have said that._ “What?”

“Maybe you just haven’t had a crush in a while. Y’know, one of those things where you feel all warm and fuzzy when they reject your calls and ignore you at lunch. That kind of stuff.” _Good save_.

“Right… But it’s still not _that_. I feel warm and fuzzy in a way that’s a lot more literal than that. Like, everyone is trying to tell me things at once even though nobody’s even looking at me. Take yesterday, for example, I went to give my mom her dinner and it hurt to actually _be_ there. In the hospital.”

“That’s weird, huh.”

“Yes! And now I’m sat in this classroom trying to avoid taking my shirt off because it’s so _hot_ in here,” Scott groaned. He had opened all of the windows when he walked in at the start of the period, but the room was still stuffy. “Scott, it’s pretty much _freezing_ ,” Stiles replied with a confused frown.

"Yeah, well, that pencil isn't yours. It was there before class even started," he huffed.

*

“So, it’s really nice to be here with you. Like this, that is,” Allison could hear her voice breaking slightly. It was strange to be lying with Lydia on her bed, now, and the space between them got smaller each time she came over. “It is, isn’t it?” Lydia beamed a response, tucking her hair behind her ear. She found it intriguing how different Allison looked to her after they had kissed. She had been thinking about doing it for such a long time that when they finally did, it felt like she had walked for miles to reach her front doorstep. Allison had opened the door with the deepest of smiles, and everything was settled. It was different, but nothing had changed. She had always been there, she finally knew that. It wasn’t just her knocking at an abandoned house.

“I have to go soon,” Allison started, “Something’s going on with Scott.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t even know myself, Stiles just called for an emergency meeting later on tonight.”

“Wow. You guys really are quite the pack, aren’t you?” Lydia smiled, fighting off a twinge of jealousy. She had no right to be jealous. They were all just close friends. Maybe that was the reason why she reacted that way, after all. “You’re lucky, y’know. Having good friends like that. Always there for each other, no matter what,” she felt her voice trail off as she stood up from the bed.

“Lydia… Maybe if you talked to them, got to know them, they could be yours, too,” Allison replied, sitting up against the headboard. “They’ll understand. They’re not exactly the coolest, but they’re good guys. If you just tell them –“

“I can’t.”

“Stiles has already seen you naked in the woods, c’mon. I’m sure he already thinks something’s up.”

“Maybe he doesn’t.”

“Lydia…”

“I-if I say something, it’s real,” she stuttered, sitting down at her dressing table, “And I spend a lot of my time pretending to be something I’m not. So, it’s fine.” She caught her reflection in the mirror, flinching slightly as she did. Allison moved across the room to stand behind her, placing her hands gently on her shoulders, and leant in to her ear. “Scott’s a werewolf. Your ex-boyfriend is a werewolf. I come from a line of werewolf hunters… And Stiles is… _Stiles._ What’s a girl who finds dead bodies in her sleep? That’s quite tame if you ask me.”

*

It wasn’t normal for Isaac to call him like this. He hadn’t called for weeks, months even, and just the thought of meeting up with him was nerve-wracking. So, meeting in a coffee shop on the other side of town seemed to lessen the blow. No pouring rain. No dark alleyways. Just a little independent coffee shop. Giving out gingerbread tasters. He heard the door chime, chose to stare at his mug, and not look up. It was like Isaac enjoyed a dramatic entrance, and he really _wasn’t_ in the mood for that kind of thing. After placing his order, he pulled up a chair. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Yeah. What are you doing here?”

“Well, well, c’mon, now… I thought you’d be pleased to see me,” he smirked, playing with a ring on his middle finger. “I think you know exactly what I’m doing.”

“If you’re coming back, now, after everything… Expecting it to all be okay, then I think you’ve got something seriously wrong with you.”

“You’re no fun, what happened to you, man?”

“ _You_ happened. You and all your goddamn _stuff_. We used to be _friends_ , Isaac, remember? I was the only one who knew why you went to all of those after school clubs.”

“Yeah, and you completely ignored me _during_ school,” he bit back.

“I was an ass, I know, but we were there for each other.”

“Yeah, you completely had my back, man… Remember the time – oh yeah – the time when you killed my _dad_?” A waitress placed his coffee down, shaking nervously, then walked back behind the counter.  Isaac reached towards it, took a sip and licked his lips. “That wasn’t _me_ , Isaac. That was-“

“Oh right, the Kanima… Sure.”

“That’s not fair. You know that.”

“You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry.” He took another sip of his drink to fill the silence, waiting for Jackson to look up at him. To look up at him and acknowledge that he was there. “Things are different now, Lahey,” he muttered as he pushed his own drink to the middle of the table, “It’s been hard to not talk about it. Allison’s Lydia’s best fr- well, I guess, and Scott is Allison’s. It’s difficult to keep stuff like that under wraps.”

“What have you said… Jackson?” his voice was urgent; scared.

“I haven’t told Scott _anything_. Just Allison. I don’t talk to him properly, so I thought that if _she_ knew, she’d know how to play it in front of him. Jeez, I don’t see why you _left_ because of the whole damn thing. Now, I’m the one dealing with it.”

“I just- just had to get away for a while, y’know?”

“Yeah. Well, you were always the broody type, so why not run away from the guy you fell for? Makes complete sense,” he gleamed, finally looking him in the eye. He looked tired. Well, he always had done. This was a different kind, though. Like he was desperate to sleep, desperate to do something or _anything_ other than think. “Come back to mine. You look like you could do with some rest,” he added.

“I’m okay, really,” Isaac yawned and then rolled his eyes. _Great timing, as per usual._

“Sure. C’mon. I’ll make sure Scott doesn’t see you. Unless… you want to see him?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Why not?”

“He stopped calling for me.”

“ _What?_ Just call him back – you’ve still got his number, right? _”_

“No. Well, yeah, I still have his number. I mean, he’d call _for_ me.”

“Like, wolf-style? No. Way.”

“I guess he went into the woods at night and just waited there. You don’t know how hard it was to stop myself from going to him. I had to leave town at night when he first started.”

“ _Damn._ So, it’s not _just_ him. It’s his _wolf_ , too. It’s _both_ of your wolves.”

“Yeah, well, it _was…_ But, like I said, he stopped.”

“Maybe you stopped listening.”

“ _Never._ ”

*

“What the _hell_ is he doing here, Jackson?” Stiles’ voice was stern, controlling. It even surprised him a little. Isaac was fast asleep in Jackson’s bed, snoring a little and mumbling incoherently. Jackson was sat at his desk, watching Stiles as he stood in the doorway. “Don’t be like _that_ ,” he groaned in response.

“I’m not _being_ like _anything,_ Jackson. I’m just wondering why the _hell_ Isaac Lahey is back in Beacon Hills after he turned _my_ best friend into the boy who cried wolf! Well, over one, anyway.”

“Oh. I thought you were freaking out about him being in my bed… Okay.”

“I don’t care about that. I know you wouldn’t do anything.”

“How are you so sure?” he grinned. Stiles walked across the room to where he was sat and tugged at his belt. “Because…” he whispered, “he doesn’t feel like _I_ do.” He felt his eyes changing again, and it scared him, still. “You know that’s not cool. I don’t want to get arrested for murdering some loser because they turned me on too much.”

“Oh, so you like it? I wouldn’t have guessed,” Stiles replied smugly, undoing the belt and beginning to unbutton his jeans. “Fuck, Stiles, it’s not safe. I don’t want-“ He had already started to lift his shirt and kiss down past his navel. With unapologetically wet and lazy lips, he reached the elastic of his boxer shorts, pulling at them with his teeth. “Fuck _safe,_ Jackson,” he breathed; warm against his skin. His tongue swirled slowly up to the head at first because he knew how sensitive he was, then he pulled him into his mouth; deeper for each gasp he responded with. He was hard, and Stiles knew how scared he was. He could change at any moment, which wasn’t a risk, usually. It was only when _he_ took control, when _he_ told him what he was going to do that his eyes had that electric spark. “Stiles… Uh… Stiles, stop!” Jackson pulled away, buttoning his jeans back up. “You can’t just do _that_. It’s not right.”

“It’s okay, Jackson. I’m fine with it,” he insisted, distancing himself slightly. Jackson stood up and looked over at Isaac, still asleep. “Well, I’m not. I don’t want to be reminded of the people I’ve killed when I’m having sex, thanks,” he spat. Stiles could hear his voice wavering as he turned away from him to leave the room. “I need you to go,” he continued, “I need you to go and I need you to stop making this into a joke, ‘cause it’s not funny.”

“Aww, Jackson, c’mon-“

“I need you to leave, Stiles,” he barked, “Get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but write this one in anticipation for the rest of it, so apologies in advance as there may not be another update for a couple of days, now. Anyway, let me know what you think in the comments below and enjoy :-) Always love.


	5. She'll string you along and she'll sell you a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia gets the opportunity to put her 'talent' to use, but she can only help one person at a time. Stiles and Jackson try to work things out. Everybody's feeling a little _blue_.

It was freezing cold when Lydia woke, expecting to turn and see Allison. She reached out blindly to pull her closer, but instead grasped a handful of dead leaves. _Again?_  She stood up quickly, opening her eyes to the darkness of the woods, and then looked down at herself. _Pyjamas this time, thank God._ It took a while to adjust to the surroundings, a while to finally see the body a few feet in front of her. “Please, please, _please_ don’t be dead,” she whispered to herself as she stepped forward, “ _Please_ don’t be dead.” The body didn’t move. The canopy of trees above hid the light of the moon, and all she could make out was that the body was male. It didn’t smell like it was rotting, but it smelt like something. Something familiar. _Armani_.

“Danny! Can you hear me?” she cried, falling to the floor. No response. “Danny! I’m going to get you some help, okay? I don’t know where I’m going to go and how I’m going to get there but I’m going to get you some help. I promise,” her voice was quick now, shaking with worry. She leant over his body to check his pulse. _Still alive. Still breathing_. She shook him, hard, hoping that it would make a difference. _Incredibly professional medical technique, Lydia._

“What are you doing… here?” A tiny whisper escaped from Danny’s mouth. His eyes were still closed, and he didn’t sit up. “I should be asking you the same thing,” Lydia sighed, falling back to the floor in relief. For a moment everything was okay, Danny was okay, and then it hit her. _I’ve finally got here before it happens._ She hesitated with her words, rearranging the sentence in her head several times. There was no way to lessen the blow. “Danny… I have something to tell you and it’s not going to come across nicely at all,” she breathed.

“What’s that, then?” he replied, sitting up with interest. She could’ve sworn that she saw him even smirk a little. “I- I think you’re going to d-“

“Die soon?” He was _definitely_ smirking, now.

“How did you…”

“I’ve kinda guessed that I would for a while, and recently, well… I’ve started to _feel_ it.”

“You need to go and see a doctor, Danny…” She felt him start to stand up, clapping his hands together to get rid of any dried mud. “No, I don’t. It’s not like that, Lydia.”

“What is it, then? Please don’t tell me you’re just having an existential crisis…”

“What are you doing, sleep walking in the woods like this, huh? I heard you walk over and was too scared to move from the floor… Then you got nice and comfortable amongst the leaves, I see,” he laughed.

“Danny, you’re still not saying why you were here in the first place.”

“Neither are you.”

“Okay, fine,” she huffed, joining him on her feet. “I have this thing where I can find dead bodies. Like, it’s totally weird, and I’ve only just stopped doing it naked which I guess is an improvement… But, it brought me to you. It wasn’t _my_ choice to be in the woods tonight. Why was it yours?” Lydia could feel Danny tense at the question, and she knew he was ready to answer. “C’mon, why don’t we find our way out of here and you tell me all about it,” she smiled, linking her arm tightly with his. As she went to walk forward, he pulled back. “Can I just say it now? Just, all at once. Then we can walk.”

“Sure.”

“You find dead bodies, I needed to get away from live ones. I can feel everything people feel. Everyone in a room. At home. At school. At the mall…”

“You mean, like, telepathy? Oooh, how exciting! What number am I thinking of _right_ now?”

“No, I’m not telepathic. I just _feel_. If someone’s angry or someone’s sad or someone’s in love. It kinda swims through me but it’s like I’m the one drowning. I can barely handle what’s going on in _my_ head at the best of times…”

“It actually hurts? My number was thirteen, by the way.”

“Yeah. Have you ever jumped into a lake expecting it to be warm in the Summer and when you go under completely it’s freezing and it’s like your chest is about to collapse? Then your body gets used to it and it’s okay…”

“I guess so…”

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda like that… But you never lose that feeling. And you never warm up. That’s why I come out here so I can rest properly… So I can handle it during the day.”

“But it’s _freezing_ out here, Danny…” He replied with an outstretched arm, and wrapped his hand around her wrist. “You’re- you’re _warm._ ”

“Yeah. I always am. That’s the problem, it’s not an external thing. I always feel cold _inside._ I don’t think that I’m going to be able to take it much longer, Lydia…”

“Don’t you _dare_. You’re the first person I’ve found alive and relatively well, so I am not going to let you die. You are _not_ dying. Okay?” She could feel her voice thicken as she spoke, with the weight of her promise and the surprise of the tears that fell down her cheeks. _I am not going to let him die._

 

*

Stiles hadn’t spoken to Jackson for a week, and it was getting tedious. They would walk past each other in the halls, and it was like nothing had ever happened between them. Jackson ignored him, just like Lydia had done; just like all the rest. It wasn’t cute anymore. His heart didn’t race at the odd smirk. He didn’t bite his lip in anticipation of an insult thrown casually across the classroom. He didn’t miss having his collar grabbed. He just missed _Jackson_. They were part of an act in front of others and they had their roles to fill, but when they were alone it was different. Jackson would never admit to it, of course, but Stiles knew that it wasn’t just him that felt that way. The first night that they shared together was spent wrestling each other’s established roles; trying to pull them away and find something more. They did. There was no denying that. They had their secret hiding space that nobody else could reach. It was so vast that they would still have to call to each other from time to time, but at least they were in the same place. Stiles was still there, wandering around, trying to understand.

“Hey,” Jackson hissed, throwing a pencil at Stiles’ head, “I need to talk to you, Stiles.” He turned around to face him with a frown on his face. It didn’t stay for long. “What’s going on, Jackson? D’ya need some fitness advice, or something? I’m trying to do some work.”

“Don’t be an ass. We need to talk about that _thing_. Y’know?”

“Ohhh. That _thing_. Yep, that’s really helping me figure out why the _hell_ you’ve decided to talk to me again.” He could feel himself getting upset, and he didn’t want to be. He wanted to be angry at him. So angry that even the thought of angry sex was off the cards. So angry that _he_ managed to somehow turn into a werewolf. It seemed to be a pretty good excuse for a lot of things. “Class is over in five minutes, are you busy afterwards? Stiles…” Jackson’s voice was low and sincere, and he was leant so far over his own desk that it looked like it was about to topple over at any second. “Y’know what? Whatever. I have some things to say to you, too… But we’re going now.”

*

They were back in Jackson’s room, and Stiles had made himself comfortable on the bed. “You need to take me seriously with this wolf stuff,” Jackson started, sitting at the other end, “And I don’t know why it only happens when you decide that _you_ want to fuck _me_.”

“Probably because you don’t have control over the situation. You’re letting yourself go. And that’s frightening,” Stiles replied, getting under the covers. Jackson watched as he did so, confused.

“What are you doing? I just wanted to talk. Goddamnit, this is exactly what I mean, Stiles…”

“I’m not doing anything, just come under here with me,” his voice was muffled underneath the duvet. “Really think I’m falling for that?”

“Trust me.” The words hit Jackson like he’d never heard them before. He _had_ , but he’d never actually done it. He was already moving up the bed to lie next to him before he could respond properly. “Look, I’m not sleeping with you. You know I can’t, Stiles. I don’t think it’s just about letting go. There’s something else.”

“Just stop for a second, okay? Stop and just lie here. With me. How do you feel?” Stiles was lying completely still, and Jackson shuffled slightly.

“I feel weird that we’re not doing anything. Like, kissing or fucking or _whatever_.”

“Hmm. Good weird or bad weird? Human weird or wolf weird?”

“Just, weird. Human weird.”

“Right. Well, I’m feeling like the world hasn’t stopped moving and you haven’t started getting intense sideburns or fangs so you _could_ sleep with me tonight.” Jackson sat up abruptly, pulling the duvet away. “Fuck you, Stiles,” he growled.

“ _Sleep_ with me, Jackson.”

“What?”

“ _Sleep._ As an experiment. I’m trying to understand what’s going on, and I know, I know, I’ve done a pretty terrible job so far… So, please, can we just _try_ this?”

“No sex?”

“No sex. Just _sleep_.”

“But, we don’t do that. We just _don’t_.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. And if it isn’t, I’ll think of something else to try. _We’ll_ think of something else. I’ll look for every single something else until we only have one more something else left.” Stiles had pulled the duvet off of his head, and wouldn’t take his eyes from Jackson. Their roles didn’t have to be permanent, and he didn’t want them to be. He watched his furrowed brow relax as his head hit the pillow; as his eyes closed. “We’ll get there,” he whispered, “You, me and that wolf of yours.”

*

The bleeding hadn’t stopped. He hadn’t been watching the time, he hadn’t even had the chance to think about it, but he just knew that he was bleeding and that it wouldn’t stop. The rest of the room would go in and out of focus, just like how they do in the movies, and he could feel his pulse beat hard like it was coming through the surround sound system that lined the walls. It was getting slower, and he just wanted to sleep some more. He couldn’t stop thinking about how inviting the bed was, even though the sheets were covered in blood. He felt his eyelids fluttering with his pulse, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long. _It better be a damn good dream._ Things were getting darker now, and he couldn’t remember how dry skin felt. The red was everywhere, dripping from his hands; engulfing his shirt. The tearing was just above the hip, and he couldn’t remember what they said in First Aid class about treating a wound in that area. Like it mattered, now, anyway. He couldn’t hear Jackson yelling as he pulled the bathroom apart, looking for something to stop the bleeding. He couldn’t hear the loud sobs as he ran back into the room with some bandages and his mom’s home sewing kit. He didn’t hear Jackson’s cries when they both woke up in a pool of blood. All he could do was watch through the small slits in his eyes that remained open as he applied pressure and spoke to somebody on the phone. Jackson’s eyes were the brightest blue he’d seen yet, and each time he blinked through tears, they went back to their normal colour. He missed that colour. The mix of grey and green and a hint of that overbearing blue. It was easy to get lost in his eyes; to ignore the red puffiness of the skin surrounding them. To ignore the urgency in them. Just to look at the colours. To know that he wasn’t _all_ blue. To remember that.  To remember that there was always something beautiful there before the darkness took over and allowed red to become the primary colour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Would love to hear your theories about what's going to happen/what's going on in the comments below, and of course, any constructive criticism! Always love.


	6. But there's nothing but pain on the edge of a knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just have to _let go_.

“Do you remember when we talked about this last? Like we were about to take on the world, and it didn’t matter if people got hurt. We would talk after practice, and you’d laugh in my face because you didn’t want to ever show that you needed me. _We’re werewolves,_ we’d say. _Nothing can touch us, now_. Not my dad, not anyone… But it’s not like that, at all, is it? It makes things harder. This isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted things to be _different_. I wanted to be _noticed_. I wanted to be someone else… And now I’m just s _omething_ else,” Isaac’s voice was broken and low, “Just something else that I can’t control.” He finished his sentence and looked up to Jackson, not expecting any eye contact, as he was busy staring over at Stiles’ body with distant eyes. He had never known what it was like to hope for something before, and it showed, as he fought back empty tears. Stiles was on the floor, now, away from the blood-stained bedding. He just looked like he was sleeping.

“I have _never_ needed you. I’ve never needed anyone,” Jackson replied harshly, his voice breaking a little. He knew it was a lie, of course he did, but saying that kind of thing out loud just didn’t feel right. “I just need to think of what to do… Then, you can go back to doing whatever it is you do now.” He still hadn’t looked away from Stiles. At least the bleeding had stopped. The carpet was spotless, and he didn’t want to look at the bed. “I’m going to see what I can do with these sheets. It doesn’t look too bad. It really doesn’t. Let’s just hope it hasn’t gone into the mattress,” Isaac began to pull the duvet from the bed and walk to the bedroom door. He wasn’t sure if he said that just because he’d been looking at it all for too long. As he went, he stepped widely away from the space where Stiles was, trying not to look. Jackson would notice if he did, and acknowledging what he had done wouldn’t help. “Lahey… Thanks. Just, thanks.”

“Hey man, it’s no problem. We’ll work this out,” his voice shook a little, but he managed to recover it in time so that it seemed somewhat sincere. He left the room, and Jackson listened for his footsteps to reach the staircase before crouching down onto the carpet. “Psst. Stiles. I know you can hear me. I know you can. I’m sorry. I’m _so_ goddamn sorry. It’s not that bad, honest,” he looked down to the bandaged part of his hip and winced, “Okay, okay. It _is_ bad. It’s bad that I did this to you. I just need you to come back, okay? Come back and pull that stupid face of yours that I hate.” Silence. The room felt a lot bigger, now. Isaac wasn’t there, and it was just him and Stiles. Alone. It was the first time he’d ever wanted to hear his obnoxious laugh boom against the walls. “We tried to fix you, and I think that if you just keep listening you’ll come back. Keep listening, man. Stay here with me. You’re not supposed to be this quiet, it’s not natural,” he pleaded. Stiles was pale. Paler than normal, and his chest wasn’t moving. “You’re not allowed to be like this, it’s not _right_. It’s just not right. We were supposed to sleep and it was supposed to be okay. We were supposed to wake up and you were supposed to jump on me like you always do. I was supposed to pretend to hate it. Like I always do. Please, come back. I need you… To come back. Get back here and tell me that I’m an ass for letting your blood get everywhere. Tell me that I’m the worst thing that’s happened to you. Tell me I’m a hopeless mess. Tell me you never want to see me again. Just tell me _something_. You need to get back here and tell me what to do. I don’t know… ” he was crying properly now, he didn’t fight it, he just let the tears fall down like they were the last few hours that he wanted to take back. He grabbed Stiles’ loose hand, pulling it in tight against his chest. “See, I’ll keep you warm and you’ll get better. You’re not dying on me, Stiles. Don’t you even _think_ about it. You were just resting. You’re _just_ resting. I want you to wake up, now. I want you to wake up. Do it. Right now. It’s not funny anymore.” He didn’t loosen his grip when Stiles’ eyelids flickered. He didn’t loosen his grip when Stiles’ chest slowly began to rise and fall once again. He didn’t loosen his grip when Stiles’ eyes opened hesitantly, searching for his. “If that’s not a power nap, then I don’t know what is,” he croaked, squeezing back at Jackson’s hand.

*

Scott was walking out of school with Allison. _Just a few hours until the full moon_. They walked slowly up to her dad’s car, and she hesitated before she opened the door. “Scott, I need to tell you something. If you promise that you won’t go all wolf-y and kill me tonight because of it…” she attempted a grin to lighten the conversation topic, but it just looked like a grimace. Scott raised his eyebrows, concerned, and readjusted the straps of his backpack. “What’s up?” He had learnt how to pretend to not be bothered by a situation for so long, his response _almost_ sounded casual. “It’s Isaac. He’s back, and I think he’s coming back to school in a couple of days,” she shrugged, considering whether to pat him on the shoulder or not. “Why didn’t he tell me?” His voice was desperate, he could really hear it, and it definitely wasn’t casual. “I don’t think he’s ready for you quite yet. You both have that weird thing that nobody’s allowed to talk ab- “ Allison tried to stop herself, but it was too late. “What’s that supposed to mean? And anyway, maybe I’m not ready for _him_. Did anybody think about that?”

“I don’t think that really counts as a form of assessment when it comes to returning to Beacon Hills High, Scott… They pretty much let anyone in. Speaking of assessment, what’s going on with Stiles lately? He missed class for a couple of days, and now he’s back he’s not talking about Jackson. Not reaching around in his chair to stare at him. Not eavesdropping on his and Danny’s conversations. Like, at all. It’s weird.” Scott glanced nervously over her shoulder to her dad’s car, and pulled her back to the path. “You can’t say anything to your dad. You need to swear,” his voice was hushed but rough, like the words didn’t want to leave his throat. “Okay. I promise,” she nodded quickly, shifting her notepad in her hands with anticipation. “Jackson hurt him. Well, his _wolf_ did. Like, really bad. Stiles doesn’t like talking about it, but I’m pretty sure he almost _died._ You should see what it did to him… I had to get my mom to promise that she wouldn’t tell his dad about any of it. Jackson tried to fix him up at first, and I just got a text from Stiles’ phone telling me that he needed help. More than a couple of bandages and a home sewing kit kind of help.” He wanted to be angry at Jackson. He wanted to pin him up against the lockers in the corridor and tell him to never go near his best friend ever again. The numb feeling that he had when he received the first message from Stiles’ phone was still present, and he hadn’t felt the same since he had to wait and watch as his skin didn’t heal quickly; his shouts of pain ringing out through his house. There would definitely be a scar there. Allison’s face was blank as she stepped back towards the car. “I just- Why did he do it?” she uttered.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t even a full moon. Stiles mentioned to me about him starting to change whenever they – uh – y’know. Maybe it’s his animal instincts?” He couldn’t believe how calm his voice was. _At least he’s alive, remember that._ “That doesn’t make much sense. That doesn’t happen to you, or Isaac. You guys don’t end up mutilating the people you sleep with. So, why would it happen to him? ”

“We’ll work it out. We can’t just blame Jackson for this. I want to, I really do. It would be so much easier… But it’s not all his fault.”

“So, it only happens when they have sex with each other? Is that right?”

“Well, not exactly. Jackson only started to change like that recently. At first it was just his eyes… But Stiles said that they’d had sex before and nothing had happened then. Weird.”

“Huh. What were they doing when Stiles got hurt?”

“Sleeping.”

“Just sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

“And that’s when it got really bad… That’s weird. So, it can’t be related to sex, then. That narrows it down, I guess.”

“To what, exactly? I think that they really liked each other, Allison. Equally, y’know? Even if they did yell at each other and insult each other and the rest of it. And now they’re not talking, because of Jackson’s stupid wolf and its inability to recognise a full moon when it sees one.” He didn’t want Stiles to lose the one person that he could properly argue with. He didn’t want him to lose his _person_. Even after all of the name-calling and shoving, they were unapologetically _right_ for each other. He was jealous of that and he knew it; how two people could be so _okay_ with their contradictions. The things that pushed them apart. They accepted them, embraced them, and still got to go to bed with each other even after making a scene in front of their friends. He was jealous because he used to have something that was also right, but apologetically so. “That _is_ pretty odd. I’ll talk to my dad… Don’t worry, I’ll use hypothetical scenarios. Gotta love those guys,” Allison beamed, walking back over to the car, “And hey, I’m sure you’ll hear from Isaac. Or maybe you’ll even see him tonight,” she grinned, pointing to the darkening sky.

*

“You should _talk_ to him,” Isaac urged, slumping down into the desk chair in Jackson’s room. The sheets were clean; it had only taken about four washes. Jackson was looking at his reflection in a mirror, just waiting for his eyes to change. “Maybe you should talk to Scott,” he quipped, moving closer to inspect his other features. The last time Isaac had spoken to Scott was through text message, and he was pretty sure that it was from Stiles’ phone anyway. “Ha. Funny guy. I’m sure that he’d _love_ to speak to me on a full moon. _Oh, hey, Scott! Nice to speak to you on the one night of the month that will probably remind you the most of the time when you used to howl for me to come back to you. How have you been? Well? Yeah, that’s great._ Sounds like a great move, Jackson. Thanks for the help, really.”

“Hey, you think your relationship troubles are bad? I pretty much turned into a wolf and brutally wounded the guy I really like. That’s definitely not cool.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that he got hurt when you guys were sleeping? I mean, that’s it. It’s not like I’d pay to watch that in my alone time, if you know what I mean… So, it’s weird that your wolf was so into it.”

“Maybe it wasn’t into it…” he started, then turned away from the mirror to face Isaac. “Fuck, what if that’s what it was?” His heart was beating faster, and he could feel the twinge of the start of the change. _Calm it, loser._ “Yeah, I mean, can the wolf part not like their human part? Is that even possible?” Isaac sat up straight, interested.

“Well, you had to leave town because your wolf _really_ wanted something. You even said yourself that it was a hard thing to do. Maybe that’s why you and Scott are so fucked… Your wolves want each other, too. Not just what you are every other day of the month. That’s why you’re so scared.” Jackson was speaking quickly now, almost excitedly, even though he wasn’t completely sure why. Isaac shook his head in return. “I’m not scared,” he tried to sound sincere, “I ju- I’m not sure who’d win.”

“What does that even mean?” Jackson replied, falling back onto his bed. The fresh citrus of the detergent usually overwhelmed him, but this time he breathed it all in. “It’s easier to run than it is to fight, and I’m pretty sure Scott wouldn’t want to be a full on wolf for the rest of his life, Jackson.”

“What makes you think that the wolves would win? You’re strong enough, Lahey. You just don’t know it. Or maybe you do, and you’re just normal human being scared. Fighting for love. That’s pretty deep. Pretty committed to the cause, that is. To Scott.”

*

It was difficult to persuade Lydia not to come along with Danny to study at Scott’s house. She even came up to the front door with him, rang the doorbell, and asked Scott to look after him for the night. That was pretty weird in itself. It wasn’t until they got upstairs to his room that he noticed how tired Danny looked, and how he couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than a second or so. “Are you okay? I don’t mean this in a bad way, but you don’t look so good…” Scott asked as he shuffled through some notes. Danny sat cross legged on the floor next to him with his back arched; almost curling into himself. “I’ve been pretty ill these past couple of days,” he muttered, “Well, the past couple of months. It got better for a while, but now it’s just the same. Maybe even worse. Lydia’s been helping me out.”

“How, exactly?”

“She’s been - uh - researching a lot. We haven’t found anything yet, but she’s pretty sure of herself. So, I’m sure of her.” Danny’s voice trailed off as he opened his textbook. “Anyway,” he continued, “It doesn’t matter. So… calculus.”

“Are we still not going to talk about what happened when you came over last? Just going to ignore how weird it was? You still haven’t told me anything. An explanation wouldn’t go amiss, if you don’t mind,” Scott replied abruptly. He didn’t want to study. He wanted to know what was going on. He hadn’t forgotten how it felt to have Danny against him, even in a room full of people, and what it did to him. “You need to tell me if I’m being crazy, but I could feel _everything_ after you touched me that night. Like I was hyperaware of how everyone in the room felt… And you freaked out, you were scared. I felt it, and I could see it. _You_ didn’t even know what had happened, but you gave me something.” Danny began to sit up a little, holding Scott’s gaze. He hadn’t forgotten, either. He had tried really hard to, though. He still remembered the curve of Scott’s lips against his, and how for once, he felt light as a feather. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that for days,” Danny began, “And I honestly can’t explain to you what happened that night. I can tell you that I can feel that kinda stuff, too, and I’m pretty sure that I passed it onto you when we kissed. When we _touched_. I swear, that’s never happened before.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys…” Scott smiled. They were getting somewhere. Somewhere other than warm skin and heavy thoughts. He looked right into Danny’s dark eyes and for once he was really looking back. Not risking a glance, but really _trying_. “You’re different, Scott. I don’t know why you are and I don’t know why this has happened. I can only apologise. I bet all of this supernatural stuff is pretty weird to hear, I know. I guess it’s weird for me to say it, too. Only you and Lydia know, and that on its own is scary as hell. I’m terrified that I’m just going crazy most of the time and you guys are going to turn around to me one day and say _I don’t believe you and oh, by the way, there’s a car out back to take you away_. I guess it’s a lot to take in when you’re used to skin being skin and touch being, y’know, touch. Fun human stuff, that kinda thing.” Scott could feel himself blush at the thought of _fun human stuff_. “I guess fun human stuff can be pretty cool. Like making out, for example. I mean, who doesn’t like making out? I’m pretty sure there’s a law against that in most states…”

“Are you hinting at something, McCall? Subtlety is obviously not on your list of strengths… You’re saying that you want to make out with a sad and pathetic ill person?”

“I just want to see what happens. What it’s like.”

“That sounds like how most of my relationships started in middle school.”

“Not really a big deal, then,” Scott whispered, pulling Danny forward towards him. He was warm again, just like before they kissed the last time. It wasn’t long until he felt that warmth creeping up and onto him, and the way it encapsulated his body. There was no one else in the room to feed from but him. His soft, slow kisses were tinted with defeat as they played upon his lips, and the closer they got to each other, the less they cared about what it _felt_ like. Just skin being skin and touch being touch. It was the only thing that felt necessary to them. Danny wasn’t drowning and Scott wasn’t busy thinking about how to stay afloat. They were just _together_ , and as they pulled each other up and onto the bed, it was all that mattered.  “You feel _so good_ ,” Danny breathed, sinking into the mattress, “How do you _do_ that? Nobody’s done this to me before…”

“I haven’t even started yet,” Scott chuckled, leaning in to nibble at his collarbone, “But I agree, this feels _great_. _So_ warm. Not outside, but-“ Danny interrupted him with a wide grin of a kiss, then reached out, placing his hand on Scott’s chest.  “There?” he tilted his head to the side, then pushed forward to greet Scott’s reply of hard, wanting lips. “Yeah,” he replied in almost a groan, “Right there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you all like this chapter, have a wonderful day :-) As always, feel free to comment with your opinions on everything as I love hearing back from you! Always love.


	7. There is no courage in flirting with fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac has a proposition for Scott.

“Scott’s out studying.”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m – uh – waiting. You know. It’s that time of the month…”

“I’m not an idiot, Stiles. When’s he going to be back?”

“Soon. Look, Isaac, you need to leave. You and your wolf-y instincts won’t help his, and he’s a bit on edge at the moment. I haven’t been helping much with that recently.”

“Hey, that wasn’t your fault. Jackson doesn’t know what to say to you. You know that he’s sorry. He doesn’t know what’s happening. He’s trying to figure it out. _We’re_ trying to figure it out. The thing is, he really cares-“

“About me? Right. I’m not so sure about that.”

“He _cares_ , alright? That’s the problem.”

*

It was a warm night, and Scott didn’t mind cycling home. He thought about how different yet familiar it was to be with Danny, and how he had never felt so warm. Like the bubble baths he’d clamber into as a kid after spending the afternoon exploring the woods with Stiles. His mom would find twigs and leaves in his hair, but before she could complain, he’d excuse them as examples of the times during the day that he was brave. _I had to go through some thick trees that had prickly bits! Stiles fell over and I had to help him up! We found a frog and put it back by the stream!_ These little adventure stories never failed to set the smallest and prettiest of smiles on her face. When all of the dirt had been washed away the stories went with it, and the bathroom became full of sleep-filled yawns and requests for different stories to be told just before bed. 

Scott wasn’t looking forward to the full moon. He wanted to stay right there with Danny, holding onto him for a little while longer, just to make him feel better. It wasn’t practical, and it definitely wasn’t a long term solution, but it worked. It worked and most of all, he _liked_ it. No stupid werewolf complications, well, not with Danny, anyway. He didn’t need to know. He just needed someone to be there for him. To help him get better. _Anything_ to help him get better. He pushed his legs further, enjoying the ride, and grinned as the breeze pushed his hair away from his face.

It wasn’t long until he had to slam his feet hard against the pavement as he saw Isaac standing there, right in front of his house. He kept them firmly on the ground, not going forward or even heading back. It was Isaac that made his way over; a surprise in itself. “Hey, Scott,” his voice was thick and expectant. He still looked the same. Hadn’t changed one tiny bit. Just looked a little tired, that’s all. “You haven’t been sleeping, huh,” Scott replied, letting go of the handlebars and tugging at the straps of his backpack. Isaac smirked, _don’t try small talk with this guy ever again_. “Yeah- well, no. I haven’t been. It’s been pretty difficult, y’know? I don’t know if you know,” he could hear how ridiculous he sounded, how what he was thinking was coming out and forming into words and collapsing in the space between them, “Fuck, Scott. Stiles did say that this wouldn’t be a good idea. I’m really not cut out for this crap.”

“Since when do you listen to what other people have to say?”

“Since I ignored someone for too long and they went away, too, just like I did first. Funny, isn’t it? You only realise that you should listen when someone stops hearing _you_.”

“Funny,” Scott scoffed, putting one foot onto the pedal, “I have to go. You should too. It’s going to be time soon. Like, really soon.” Isaac stepped in front of his bike, reaching for the handlebar. His hand sat just between Scott’s, and they both felt it. The heaviness of it all, and how such a simple thing could be so monumental. So inevitable. “Scott, come with me for the night. Just one night,” his eyes flashed with what seemed to be wolf meets excitement, “And I promise that I won’t go anywhere. I want to spend tonight with you. I’ve missed having a home. I’ve missed feeling _okay_. But, most of all, I’ve missed _you_.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, I swear it,” he urged, tightening his grip, “I swear, I swear, I swear. If I change on my own anything could happen. I could wake up covered in blood and wondering why I don’t have an empty stomach even if I haven’t eaten in three days. If I change with you, I know it won’t be like that. I know.”

“How can you be so sure? We barely know each other, now.”

“I’m sure because when I look at you – even for the first time in months – I feel like I’m back in the place that I’ve always wanted to be. I _hate_ you for it, how you have this control over me, and how you don’t even know… But I can’t help it. We _have_ something. No, scratch that, we _are_ something together, Scott. You and I. We are something whether you like it or not. Whether _I_ like it or not. I think we’re meant-“

“Stop, Isaac. Just stop,” Scott’s voice was harsh, and he knew that it wasn’t just because of the full moon. Isaac looked back, his eyebrows raised, and let go of the bike. “I’m not letting you do this. Not again. You think that just because we have this _thing_ , this stupid _thing_ , that I’m going to let you do this to me, again? You tell me these things and you still run away. That’s what you always do. You always have done. I’m just- I’m just _done_ with all of this. When you were away, I realised something… And it’s changed my mind on a lot of things.”

“What’s that?”

“Things don’t always have to be difficult. People can hurt, and people can be broken, but sometimes they _stay_. They fight through it all. Some people are _brave,_ Isaac.”

“I’m being brave now, aren’t I? Look at me, I’m stood here in front of you, asking you to come with me tonight. Don’t tell me that you can’t feel that hunger inside. That’s not just us. That’s our wolves, too. You know it is.”

“You’re not brave. You don’t know bravery. You’re just a coward who’s bored and needs attention.” Scott pushed his foot against the pavement, and started to make his way to the house. “Oh, and you’re the poster kid for courage, huh?” Isaac shot back, defeated.

“Maybe I wasn’t talking about myself,” Scott replied, “And maybe you should wait for me in the woods.” He placed his bike down on the lawn and started towards the front door, grinning. He knew that Isaac would be grinning, too, but he turned around anyway just to make sure. “You’re exhausting,” Isaac groaned, failing to hide the warmth that his smile gave to his words.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's still reading, would just like to say thanks for the support so far and I just hope that you enjoy this new chapter :-) Comments are very much appreciated, also! Always love.


	8. To prove you're alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's starting to make sense. Maybe.

Lydia’s skin was a soft, snowdrop white. It was almost like it begged to be touched, but there was a force field surrounding it. The way her coppery hair fell over her crisp white canvas, and the way Allison felt charged with something electric every time she got close filled their nights with an atmosphere that neither of them had felt before. The way that Allison moved her hands gingerly towards her body, as if she wasn’t sure of what to do, and the relief that swept over her when she could finally feel her skin underneath her fingertips was all part of something immeasurable. They had chosen not to speak about it, to act just like friends do, but to be part of a secret together. If they even decided to have a conversation about it, there was a chance that the spell of it all would be over and their bodies would stop searching for each other in crowded rooms. Maybe it was better that way, to just let things _be_.

Lydia took hold of Allison’s right hand just to feel it a little bit more as she pushed inside of her, and Allison took a deep breath as she went; biting her bottom lip. _This is really happening_. _This is really, really happening._ Lydia’s brow crinkled as she went deeper, and with that Allison placed a final kiss on her lips before tracing down her stomach and settling her shoulders between her thighs. Her tongue moved in playful, slow circles as Lydia’s hips moved with her pulsing right hand. Allison’s touch was warm, and Lydia didn’t feel naked at all. She didn’t have that cold, empty feeling that usually came along with other people in her bed. She could feel herself letting out moans and gripping the sheets underneath her, and it wasn’t an act. She could feel the way Allison’s tongue would move in response to her own reactions, and she didn’t have to do anything. She didn’t have to pretend.  The way she moved inside of her was enough, and as her tongue began to move faster against her clit, she couldn’t remember a time when she had ever been so wet. Allison moaned because she could feel it, too, and every so often she would sneak a look at her up there, with her eyes closed tight and her bright hair enveloping the pillows surrounding her.

*

“Lydia seems happy,” Danny smiled, looking up from his phone. Jackson sat opposite him, looking a little confused. He’d been staring at the same homework question for about five minutes, now. He couldn’t concentrate. “What? How would you even know that?”

“We’ve been hanging out a lot more recently, and she just seems _happy_. She’s got a lot on her plate that she has to deal with right now.”

“That’s – uh – good, yeah. Good for her. Whatever. What do you mean?”

“What?” Danny was surprised to get an actual response out of him. He sat up, finally looking up from the textbook to give him eye contact. “She’s… Well, you know, I don’t know what’s really going on with her and Allison, but she’s been helping me out with stuff. That’s all.”

“What – why has she been helping _you_? Why haven’t you said anything if you’re in trouble –“ Jackson started, even closing the textbook to appear more sincere. His brow was low with concern, and he clutched his pencil hard. “You’ve been – how can I put it – _preoccupied_ with stuff…” Danny tiptoed over the words that left his mouth, wincing slightly as he said them. Jackson straightened his back uncomfortably, breaking the eye contact. “I am not _preoccupied_ with anything, man. Look, I’m sorry. I wish that I could talk to you about it, but-“

“But nothing, Jackson,” Danny interrupted, rolling his eyes, “You’ve been weird even before all of this Stiles stuff. We don’t talk, but that’s okay.” Jackson loosened his grip on his pencil, and placed it back on the desk. “You know I’d tell you if I could – it’s just, it’s just so fucked up. _Everything_ is, Danny. I’m just _different_ now, and I’m sorry. I want to be there for you, though… I’m supposed to be your best friend.”

“Yeah,” Danny’s voice was tired, empty, almost. “You do _feel_ different. Like you’re something untouchable. I mean, you were bad enough before, but now something’s different. Something happened to make you feel even more distant and you haven’t acted any differently.”

“What do you mean, _feel?_ I didn’t realise we were soul sisters, or something,” Jackson laughed uncomfortably, trying to regain control of the situation. “Whatever, Jackson. It’s nothing. I just get this feeling that there’s something – some part of you – that doesn’t like where you’re going. I know that sounds crazy.”

“Yeah, it does,” he replied, shuffling in his seat, “I still don’t get what you mean, though.”

“It doesn’t matter, man. Seriously. I’m just being an idiot… I have to go,” Danny started, walking towards the door. “Wait,” Jackson called, grabbing his arm before he could leave. The pain was unbearable. Like rusting barbed wire being pulled hard against bare skin or fresh grass. Like someone crying in a locked room at the end of a hallway. Like a shattering mirror. He just looked at Jackson’s light grip, and the way it seemed to claw into his skin. Like he was bleeding out, and he couldn’t say anything. He knew that he wasn’t holding on hard, and he knew that he didn’t mean to, and that was the worst part. He didn’t know the pain that he was causing. To him, it was as if a millisecond of time had just gone by. It didn’t feel like a father’s hatred or complete and infinite darkness or Scott walking away for the last time. It was just a touch. _Jackson’s_ touch.

No. _Something else’s_ touch.

*

They had woken up next to each other in the woods, just like that. Just like they’d stayed together all night around a campfire, toasting marshmallows. They had woken up next to each other, Isaac searching for Scott’s bare chest amongst the leaves, and then gently resting his head against it. “That was _good_ ,” he mumbled into his warmth, a smile spreading across his face. He couldn’t see traces of blood anywhere, only muddy handprints and messy hair to suggest a different type of distraction. Scott still had his eyes closed, tight, and there was silence for a while. “Are you okay, Scott?” Isaac was the first one to break it.

“I’m good. Yeah.” His eyes were still closed.

“Sounds it, yeah,” Isaac replied coldly, sitting up. Scott didn’t open his eyes properly until he felt Isaac get to his feet and start to walk away. That was when he stood up, too. “Hey, Isaac, wait up! You’re naked!”

“So are you…” he spat back, shooting a quick glance back. _Yep, definitely, really, absolutely naked. Damn._

“Isaac, stop for a second. C’mon…” Scott didn’t know what he was going to say if he did decide to hear him out. It all just felt like there weren’t any chances left to take. Isaac did stop.

“What do you have to say, exactly? Are you going to come up with a way to hurt me, now? Just to get back at me for what I did? Huh? ‘Cause sure, whatever, I deserve it. I fucked up. I ran away. I didn’t know what to do with someone who felt so okay to fit in with all of my _stuff_. You were so fucking _okay_ with everything and I hated the way that you made me feel like I didn’t need to be a different person. With you, I didn’t have to be different, but I wanted to be _better_. For the first time, I didn’t hate myself. And I ran. I ran so fucking far, and you just wouldn’t stop calling me back. Back here, to some place in the woods where I finally wake up with you like I’ve wanted for so long… And then I open my eyes like we’re going to be in this together and I haven’t felt so much further away from you.” He was breathless, and had forgotten that he was naked. Just a naked guy in the woods talking to another naked guy. _A normal day at the office_. He was looking at Scott, expecting something of a response that wouldn’t make him feel so light. He wanted to feel heavy with him, the way he had always imagined it, simply engrossed in each other. It just felt like he wasn’t carrying anything. “There’s someone else,” Scott seemed to whimper, searching desperately for something to cover himself with. Nothing. _Well, that’s just great._ “I can _help_ him. I can _do_ something.”

“What the _fuck_ does that mean?”

“He needs me and I can help him. He’s ill and I make him better and I can’t stop seeing him. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Scott. What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

“D-Danny. He’s really ill, okay?”

“So, you’re pity-fucking him? Well, that’s nice of you, Scott.”

“Shut up, Isaac. You don’t know anything about it. Anything about _him_. Or _us_ for that matter.” The last sentence seemed to ring out through the woods, and Isaac felt it cut into him.

“ _Us._ There’s an _us_ with you two. Why did you even invite me last night, then? Are you on some sort of sociopathic mission, or what?”

“You know what? I’m not doing this right now. I’m not doing _any_ of this. You made me feel like I didn’t know how to exist for months. Danny reminded me of what it was like to feel existence _itself_. When I’m with him, I feel it running through my veins like all the rivers in the world are running into one and I’m _there_. He is different, and I would never be able to describe that to you. I _know_ that I am in love with you. I know that my stupid wolf has found its partner in yours. I know all of this because of how I feel when I think you’re going to walk away. But I also know that I can help Danny and that he doesn’t make me feel as lost as you do right now. I don’t think that I’ll ever feel safe with you, and that is one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever known, because I know that I’ll never stop loving you. Not properly. Not ever.”

Scott could still hear Isaac’s gasp, even as far away from each other as they were. He couldn’t see him properly through his welled up eyes, and he knew that he didn’t want him to see a single tear fall down his face. _Lahey can’t do this to you_. _You’ve said it now, just deal with it._

“Scott McCall.”

“What?” he replied, attempting to wipe his eyes in a subtle manner. His vision was much clearer now, and Isaac was a lot closer. 

“Let’s go and get some clothes.”


	9. I've seen the true face of the things you call 'Life'

_And you sent me that stupid text like it was meant to fix everything. What even was that? This can’t be fixed. I thought it could… But, maybe it’s just too hard. Maybe we’re not right for each other. Maybe it’s not meant to be. You hurt me, you really did, and now I’ve got a scar. People aren’t supposed to leave scars. Not real ones. Especially not the good ones._

 

He’d read it over and over again, expecting it to change each time. He would expect the letters to muddle themselves and sit back on the paper in the form of a comfortable _You’re an ass and this will always be hard but I love you._ Just like before. What was it even like before? He couldn’t really remember. He couldn’t remember how it felt to kiss him without feeling some sort of hungry hatred bubbling underneath. He just knew that the only time he didn’t feel anything was before he actually started to _feel_ something. _That’s just great, isn’t it?_ Before his lips felt warm against his, and before he had even considered wanting to do anything with him but fuck. Hard.

The only thing left was a crumpled note with a smudged ink sprawl that sat on the desk in his room like it owned the place. He didn’t want to bring anyone back there, and he didn’t want anyone to know that he didn’t want to bring anyone back there. So, he just sat there. He’d go to school and then come home, pretending that he had other commitments that excused him from speaking to Isaac or Danny or anyone, for that matter. He’d slam his bedroom door hard so his parents wouldn’t pester him. He just looked at the note that had been passed to him. Just passed over a couple of desks, through a couple of hands like it was nothing. It took him a while to realise that it had already been two weeks since he last tried to speak to Stiles.

*

[MESSAGE _: I just think that I need you to be around. I just think that I ruined it. I just know that I’m sorry_.]

 

The first time his phone blinked to show Jackson’s message stopped his heart a little. He watched as the message lit up the screen and faded away in the darkness of his room. He hadn’t opened the message fully yet, and he didn’t want to. It was just there, another thing on his list of things to ignore, and opening it properly felt like it would urge a reply. He would reply, of course, and it would be in a way that felt casual and distant. Regardless of what was going to be said, he had to feel distance from it and from _him_. When that immaculately folded piece of paper left his hands in class, he knew that everything had stopped. It would be over. He had _tried_ , and it had almost killed him. Literally.

Jackson would probably through it away as soon as he’d finished reading it and look for the next person to play with. He could picture it right there and then. Fucking like it’s a sport. Fucking like it’s nothing. Fucking like the other person is nothing. That was the best thing to remember about him; everything from the start. The cold hands and the hard lips and the obnoxious groans. Everything else was foggy, and remembering the way he breathed as he slept wouldn’t help at all. It was a good thing that they didn’t really talk about what was happening between them, not really, and so everything that was felt seemed like a foreign radio station heard through static whilst driving late at night.

He needed to talk to Scott about it, like he would do about anything else, but he was either catching up with Isaac or studying with Danny. The only time they were able to speak properly was during class that also included the presence of Jackson. He’d had his head in his textbooks for quite a few days, now, and it didn’t look like he was coming up for air any time soon. Maybe he was just _over it_.

“Scott, you’ve pretty much been Captain A.W.O.L these past couple of days…”

“Yeah, I know,” Scott turned away from his work, “I’m sorry. It’s just been crazy and I’ve been meaning to talk to you properly about it and-“

“Hey, man, it’s okay. Just catch up with your best friend from time to time, yeah?” Stiles patted him on the shoulder with an uncontrollable grin. He could never be angry at Scott. His ridiculously innocent smirk and the ridiculously attractive olive skin must have been something to do with it. “Just hit me up with what’s going on with you these days,” he added as he nibbled at his pencil, concentrating. Scott turned properly to face him and lowered his face slightly to speak. “Basically, I think that I have feelings for Isaac but I can’t trust him at all and I know that if I let go and risk being with him that he could always hurt me harder than before and I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Woah. That’s, uh, that’s pretty-“

“And I like Danny and I’m pretty sure he likes me and I know that I can help him and I’m not scared all the time when I’m with him and I know what to do and how to help and I know that he needs me and that he doesn’t just want me like Isaac does. And I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ve told Isaac and he’s oddly fine about it and it’s freaking me out and I can’t tell Danny about it because I don’t think he’d be as okay with it and I thought Isaac wouldn’t ever come back and now he’s here and I know that I’ll never feel right without him here but it’s like it never feels like he’s always going to be here. Y’know?”

“I really _don’t_ know, actually. So, you’re saying that you’re stuck choosing between Isaac Lahey and Danny Mahealani? That’s really not the worst situation to be in, buddy,” he said it like it was nothing, even though he knew it wasn’t. Scott’s eyebrows were raised high in expectation, like he really needed to hear something _final_ and _true._ The class was still buzzing and ebbing with the flow of different conversations. For a minute it comforted Stiles, like theirs weren’t the only troubles in the universe, and then he heard _him_.

“I’m sure Scott’s a good guy, Danny, whatever. You talk about him enough. Just don’t say you’re in _love_ with him, because I don’t think I could handle that, man. We’re not supposed to be into that kind of thing, it’s for losers,” his voice was cold and distant, just like it always had been.

“You – of all people – can’t really talk, Jackson. You stopped seeing Stiles because you decided that you didn’t want to screw him over,” Danny hushed his voice a little, “Like, seriously, when have you cared about that before?”

“I don’t _care_. I was just bored of feeling like I was wrong all of the time. That’s how it was with him. He always had to be _right_ and telling me how I felt and how he made me feel. Like he _knew_. Like he knew exactly what I was thinking. How I would act. And then I fucked up and it was the one time he didn’t predict it. The one time even _I_ didn’t predict it. I guess we’re both just complete jerks.”

Danny looked up, surprised, and then over at the back of Stiles’ bobbing head. “Do you think he’s listening?”

“I’m pretty sure he only tunes in when his name is said repeatedly. Only listens to things of interest, y’see,” Jackson’s voice was bitter, but there was an air of warmth to it. It was almost like he was proud that he’d remembered how to view Stiles as the guy he thought he knew before everything happened. The back of a stupid head. The mouth that always hung open. The feet that always stumbled over themselves. The mumbling mess, basically. “I guess that makes sense. Guess there won’t be any more spin the bottle then,” Danny grinned, “And I guess we’re going to get to spend more time together again, which is good. Obviously.” For a moment, he remembered how Jackson felt; like scratching down glass. He flinched slightly as he reached to pat his shoulder, and tried as hard as he could to smile it off. “Hey, what’s up? You look weirded out,” he asked, putting his hands in his lap. Danny tried to look away from his hands and to his eyes without feeling like someone was cracking their knuckles right in his ear. The sound kept getting louder, filling up his head, until it felt like something was walking around the room, its vertebrae making a grating, bleak noise as it slipped in and out of place. “You’re so- you’re so _alone_. Where is everyone, Jackson? You were born into nothing.”

“W-what? Danny, are you okay?”

“Can you hear that?” The cracking was getting louder. “Can you _feel_ it?”

“Feel _what_ , Danny?”

“It’s what’s inside of _you –_ whatever it is – and it will kill everyone here just to make things right. Just to make things how they were when it all started. With _you_.”

“Danny, you’re ill and you’re freaking me out,” Jackson’s voice was trembling, and he could feel the presence of the blue in his eyes. Danny was visibly shaking, now, standing up from his seat and walking towards the window. “I’m not _ill_. You-you’re the one that’s _sick_. Rotting from the inside. I forgot what it felt like to be so close to _it._ So close to emptiness. _Misery…_ And yours _hates_ company.” The entire class had turned to watch Danny stumbling past the windows and towards the blackboard at the front of the room. “Danny, please…” Jackson’s voice was weaker as he stood up from the desk, trying to avoid eye contact with Stiles. He knew that he would be looking at him. Jackson didn’t notice Scott walking slowly towards Danny at first; his words were still playing through his head. “Danny, it’s me… Scott. We need to get you out of here. You’re not well, okay?”

“You- you can’t do anything. You think you can _save_ everyone. Save yourself for once,” Danny croaked, sinking to the floor. Beads of sweat were visible against his brow, and his eyes were dark. “You helped me to forget… But that’s all you can do.”

“Listen to me, Danny. Stay awake. I can _help_ you. Can someone get help, _please_? Look,” Scott reached out his arm, placing it gently around his neck. _Nothing._ He began to squeeze a little tighter. _Still, nothing._ “Scott, you’re hurting him!” Stiles’ voice felt far away, like it came from outside of the room and down the corridor, “Let go, they’re getting help, okay?”

Scott had stopped hearing the screams and cries that filled the room, and they just seemed like the soundtrack of a film playing in the class next door. He turned around to look at the class that some people had left, and the class where others had stayed frozen in their seats. Jackson was still stood at the back of the class, running his hands through his hair and shaking his head. “He’s _dying_ ,” Lydia whispered. It felt like it was a shout that echoed throughout the school.

“No! No, he’s not. He’s okay and he’s not dying _here_. I can’t _kill_ my best friend,” Jackson was tearing up now, kneeling beside Scott at Danny’s side. Scott couldn’t remember a time when he had been so close to Jackson as he looked right at him then. His eyes were verging on the brightest of blues, as if they were taking Danny’s last moments and bathing in them, but he would struggle to blink them away and back to their normal colour. “This isn’t _me_. I _promise_ you. I _swear_. I am _not_ doing this. This can’t happen again,” his voice faded off as he buried his head into Danny’s shoulder, his left hand clutching onto his shirt. Scott looked back to Danny with tears in his eyes, taking hold of his still warm hand, and smiled a little. Danny looked up vacantly and smiled back; just for a moment. “You can’t forget what you’ve always remembered. Not _really_ ,” he whispered, “But thank you. You need to look after _him,_ now.” He tilted his head to rest against Jackson’s and smiled again. “You’ve always been my _best_ friend and I know that you don’t have to feel like this forever. You think that you deserve it, but you don’t. So, I’m going to take it with me.” His words were clear, even at the end, almost like he’d rehearsed it a million times before.

He probably _had_.


	10. The voice of the siren that holds your desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe that this is the penultimate chapter! Hope you guys enjoy it! Always love.

Everyone stopped going to that class, so much so that they had to allocate a different room that happened to be free at the start of each week. Other students went in, of course. They had only heard rumours of what had happened there. It all too quickly became something that sounded like an urban legend; a joke.   _Some kid didn’t tell anyone he was ill and his heart just stopped. They don’t know why. It just did._

_Some kid._

It had been explained away as an ongoing heart problem that he’d had since childhood. That’s what it showed up like, anyway. He was gone because of too much strain on a weak heart, nothing else, like people were supposed to feel comforted by that. Stiles spent three months researching the cause of death, looking for anything that would give answers. Something that wouldn’t be found on a lab report. Lydia remembered her smile through Allison, who didn’t leave her side. Scott had decided that he didn’t want to talk about it. At all. Jackson stopped talking to anyone about anything.

*

_To Do:_

-          _~~Jackson needs help and I can help him~~_

-          _~~Talk to Scott about dating Danny because he won’t stop talking about him~~_

-          _~~Kick Isaac’s ass~~_

-          _~~Talk to Scott about who the hell he’s actually dating~~_

-          _~~Change bandage~~_

-          _~~Get autopsy report~~_

-          _Talk to Jackson_

*

“Where’s Isaac?” Stiles felt strange talking about him. Scott looked up vacantly, almost surprised to hear another person’s voice. To hear someone talking about someone other than Danny. He was the only thing in his head most of the time. His smile and his laugh and his warmth. He didn’t think that he would ever forget his warmth. He didn’t want to. “I- I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him for a while… Since, yeah.”

“Well, you should, buddy,” Stiles knew how sharp his words were, “You can’t just stop talking to him like that. You don’t wanna be a hypocrite.”

“I don’t care about being a hypocrite, Stiles.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he didn’t _do_ anything. He tried to be there for you, man. He _tried_. He’s still waiting for you to be ready to talk to him.” Scott even knew where he would be, or where he _had_ been for that matter. “I _want_ to see him. That’s why I haven’t told him to go away from hanging around outside my bedroom window at night. I just need to stop hurting people… And each time I turn away from that window I know how he feels because I’ve felt like that, too.” It was the middle of the day, and he stood up to look out of his window, expecting Isaac to be there. Not yet. “You didn’t hurt Danny. Remember that, Scott. You made it better for him for a while. You _helped_ him. I’m sure he appreciated it. Appreciated you.”

“I know. I just wish that he’d told us sooner.”

“Can you imagine that? ‘Hi, Scott, I need you to make out with me even though you’re super into Isaac because your Alpha-ness can help to temporarily dilute feelings of pain and suffering’. You were so wound up in Lahey, you would’ve stopped listening at ‘Scott’!” Scott turned back to face Stiles with a confused look on his face. “ _That’s_ what it was?”

“Yeah… I meant to tell you. Well, I think that’s it. Treatment for a wild animal attack showed up on his medical files from a couple of years ago. He didn’t seem to respond the bite as well as you did.”

“You call _this_ responding well? For a long time I was a wolf once a month with no control over my actions…”

“Well, at least you can say that it gets better, I suppose…” Stiles let a smirk come across his face, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel guilty about it. _How else are we supposed to deal with this kind of thing?_ Scott looked at him, right in the eye, and didn’t look away. Stiles knew that he wouldn’t be able to smile back – not _right_ now – but there would be a day to come where his eyes lit up the way they used to. The way they did when he watched Jackson get progressively drunk and careless about how much he stared, and the way they did when Allison finally kissed Lydia. That’s what got him through; seeing other people being _okay_. This time it was different. Stiles would do anything for Scott to be _okay_.

*

The corridor was full as Stiles reached into his locker, searching for his History textbook. “Can’t _wait_ for this killer of a class,” he mumbled to himself, tugging his backpack tight on his shoulders. He had already thought about how Jackson would be in the class, just like he did every single week, and it didn’t seem to help the situation. He thought about what shirt he’d be wearing, or maybe if there was a chill in the air that would make a jacket seem like a sensible choice. He might have forgotten his textbook and he’d always lean forward to look over the blonde girl’s shoulder in front of him and she’d giggle and ask if he’s found a weekend when he’s free to do something yet. _Not yet, no._ Then he’d sit back with his hands behind his head and talk about the entire chapter like he had read it or something. He had probably read the entire textbook at the start of term. He wouldn’t say that, though.

“What are you doing, Stiles?” He didn’t realise that the hallway was empty, now, and he was just staring into his locker. “I was – uh – just making sure I had everything for class…”

“You’re late.”

“So are you, Jackson.” He moved his jaw like it was a response in itself, and was _actually_ wearing a jumper over a buttoned up shirt. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about… Stuff. I just haven’t been able to get around to it,” Stiles’ voice was shaking a little, just like he had expected it to. Jackson rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only person who has experienced you _not_ talking.”

“Yeah, well, feel privileged… Or something.”

“Shut up.”

“No, you shut up.”

“ _Really?”_

“Yeah.”

“Wow. This was definitely a bad idea. I’m going to go to class. You probably should, too,” Jackson’s voice sounded tired. It was like he’d been waiting for something or _anything_ that made him feel something to happen, and it had, but he had realised that it wasn’t meant to last for long. He turned away from Stiles and went to walk away and up the corridor, shaking his head. “Wait. Jackson… I don’t know what to do with you.” Jackson continued to walk, forcing his eyes closed and trying to get the words out of his head. “There’s a part of you that can’t _stand_ me…”

“There’s a _lot_ of me that can’t stand you,” he mumbled, considering turning around for a moment. _Don’t do it to yourself._ Stiles started to catch up with him, jogging lightly, and trying to catch his eyes. “I can’t put myself in that position again. I know, I know, it wasn’t your fault… But, it was scary and it hurt as hell, man.” Jackson stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. His eyes looked fierce at first, maybe because Stiles hadn’t looked into them for a long time. Strangely, he felt comforted by them. The blue wasn’t prominent. It was almost like they were more green or grey, now. It was hardly noticeable. “You- your _eyes._ ”

“Yeah,” Jackson replied, just like it explained everything at once. Stiles reached forward, placing a hand on his cheek and moved his head closer to inspect them. Jackson hesitated and got lost in his touch for a moment, then slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch what you can’t afford,” he hissed.

“I didn’t realise you were selling yourself these days, Jackson. College tuition _is_ getting ridiculous, I suppose,” Stiles bit back, smiling. “Something happened to you, I know it.”

“Congratulations, Einstein.”

“What was it? Tell me. I know you probably don’t want to but you should totally tell me.” Jackson looked down at his feet and shook his head again. “Danny… he – uh – wanted to make me better. So, he – uh – took away my...” he stopped, looking back up to Stiles and that open mouth of his. It was difficult to stop from kissing it right there and then. “Your _what_? Your arrogance? Your ignorance? Your ability to perform well in the bed-“ And there it was. That feeling once again. The raging burning sensation he felt in his chest when he pressed his lips against Stiles’. With only one slight peck. “I’m sorry… I- I shouldn’t have done that. Forget about it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t scared.”

“Neither was I.”


	11. But Death, she is cunning and clever as hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end.

Allison watched as Lydia sat there, reapplying her make up for the second time. She had established a new routine for herself ever since everything had happened. She woke up at a different time. She got ready in a different order. She spoke softly, with less conviction.

Something about Danny had changed her. She had tried with all of her might to save him, like it was her job, and it hadn’t changed a thing. Something that she couldn’t change changed her instead. Of course. She didn’t even feel that anything was different the day it happened. It was just like a normal day where he smiled at her the way he always did. His eyes would say that it would all be okay, and she didn’t have to worry for a little while. Then, it happened. The way he spoke to Jackson like he was possessed. It was like every inch of darkness was escaping from him; leaving him behind. So, he fell to the ground and that was it. Everyone could finally feel the weight of what he was carrying all by himself. They couldn’t _understand_ it, but for one moment they _knew_. At least.

“He’s going to be here, soon,” Allison started, “And you look perfect. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” She stepped forward into Lydia’s reflection in the mirror and smiled slightly, holding her shoulders. Lydia smiled back. It _would_ be okay. Allison said it would, and she believed her. It was only Jackson, after all.

*

“Nope. Haven’t spoken to him since.”

“Since when?”

“Uh… Since… Yeah.”

“Stiles…”

“Okay, whatever. I saw him at school a week or so ago. It was nothing,” Stiles’ voice trailed off a little. He hadn’t spoken to Jackson since they’d kissed that one time in the hall, and he didn’t want to tell Scott. He knew how he’d react, with some sort of restrained and cautious excitement that struggled with everything that had happened. _His wolf almost killed you, remember that._ _Killed you dead. Y’know? Dead-dead. All of the deads. Every kind you can think of. Just, dead. So, stop being in love with the other part of him, jeez. Wait. Not love. No. No way._ “Well, there’s definitely something different about him. I don’t know what happened with – you know – but maybe you guys should talk properly.”

“Scott, you can talk about him, y’know. You’re going to have to. It’s okay. I’m your best friend and I love you, man. We can get through this together, like we always do.” Scott looked away for a moment, thinking about what Danny would want. It was his playful grin that came to mind, first. He didn’t think he would _ever_ forget that. That’s when it came to him. “You know… I miss him. Sometimes I miss him so much that I hate myself for not knowing what was happening sooner. How much he was hurting… And he didn’t say anything. He just _smiled_. Like, he made everything seem okay because he didn’t want to bother anyone. He didn’t want anyone else to experience pain like he did… But we all are, now. He’s gone and he’s taken all of that darkness with him, but it’s like I _want_ to have happy thoughts of him and I can’t. Not properly. I can’t because I didn’t _know_ him like Jackson did. I was just the guy that was there when it got bad. And then there was Isaac…”

“Don’t say that. You were a great guy. You were there when he needed someone. You made him happy, Scott. Also, I heard that you’re pretty good at making out, buddy,” Stiles chuckled, a struggled attempt to cheer him up. “Besides, maybe Mahealani just wanted a piece of your sweet butt before he kicked it.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I know, your ass isn’t _that_ great.”

“Stiles…”

“You need to talk to Isaac. Otherwise he’s going to give up calling for you at night just like you did. It’s starting to give me a headache. Danny was a great guy, and we all miss him. Especially his ability to provide a fully stocked bar for social event purposes. I’m sure that he wouldn’t want you to let yourself feel bad for this long. Especially if _you_ can help it. If you can choose, Scott… Choose to be _happy_.”

*

Jackson was waiting downstairs at the front door. “I can’t stay,” he started, keeping his jacket on.

“Allison’s upstairs, anyway,” Lydia replied at the foot of the stairs, walking towards him, “I just wanted to see how you are. That’s all.” Jackson looked at her and it all came flooding back. The taste of her lips and the sound of her laugh and the softness of her skin. He didn’t even have to touch her to remember. That kind of thing – that _feeling_ – had heightened ever since Danny had died. He could feel the warmth and love radiating from her in a way that was almost too intense. “So, you and Danny got close. I noticed.”

“Yes, we did,” her voice was still soft but clear. “You were his best friend. He loved you… But you know that.” Jackson paused for a moment, feeling her eyes scanning over him. Something was different about her. “I-I guess I do,” he stuttered, pulling himself back into the room. “Lydia, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired and I haven’t been sleeping and I don’t know just a little worried about everyone and everything that’s been happening.”

“Right.” Her answer was staggered, almost. Like it was covering something else up.

*

[MESSAGE//JACKSON: _So, I’m just going to do this. We need to talk properly. No stupid kisses. I need to know what Danny took from you.]_

[MESSAGE//STILES: _I was an Omega. It’s different now._ ]

[MESSAGE//JACKSON: _Does that mean what I think it does?_ ]

[MESSAGE// STILES: _There’s a side of my bed that’s empty. When you’re ready. If you’re ready. I can wait._ ]

[MESSAGE// JACKSON: _Your ass of a wolf still kicked my butt, dude._ ]

[MESSAGE// STILES: _I promise it won’t happen again. There’s no space for a lone wolf when you’re taking up the whole bed._ ]

[MESSAGE// JACKSON: _You love it._ ]

[MESSAGE// STILES: _I do. And you._ ]

[MESSAGE// JACKSON: _Such a creep. Me too._ ]

*

“We should get some rest, I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning. You’ve had a long day, Lydia.”

“We went shopping and I spoke to Jackson for ten minutes.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Lydia’s voice was even quieter, now. She slumped onto the bed, not bothering to get undressed. Allison joined her, leaving a little space between them. “You know, it’s going to feel better each day. _You’re_ going to feel better each day. Danny isn’t dark anymore… He doesn’t hurt.” Allison reached across to Lydia with an encouraging smile, pushed strands of her auburn hair away from her cheeks and then cupped her face with her hands. “Woah, Lyd, you’re burning up…” she exclaimed, startled. Lydia looked back at her, straight in the eyes, returning a weak smile.

“That’s strange,” she whispered, “I’m freezing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually finished something. Crazy. Hope you enjoyed it. Always love.


End file.
